


1800areyoudrabblin

by 1800areyouslapping



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breeding, Dubious Consent, F/M, Father/Daughter Incest, Fingering, Heavy Drinking, M/M, Omorashi, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shimadacest, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia, Voyeurism, Watersports, literal daddy kink, non consensual wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 92
Words: 105,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12330666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1800areyouslapping/pseuds/1800areyouslapping
Summary: Used to formally be "Only the best" but I decided to turn this into my dumping ground for all of my drabbles/fics from my Tumblr. Heed the tags, this is exactly what you think it is. Don't like it, don't read it, please :)





	1. Only The Best

**Author's Note:**

> It's your birthday party and your father takes some time to be with you.

It’s your birthday today, and your Father has spared no expenses for this joyous occasion. Everything that his little girl wants, she gets, and more. There’s a festival in the courtyard, all set up in your honor. Flower petals litter the floor, all in your favorite colors. With food stalls, entertainment, and games; Sojiro brought all the joys of a festival straight to you. This way he can ensure you’re safe enough to have fun, and close enough to keep a sharp eye on. 

You’ve long since graduated from school but you insist on wearing your uniform still. “It’s  _fashion_ , Father,” you had informed him when he questioned you on your choice to keep on wearing it. So here you are, running around, in a skirt that seems to get shorter and shorter the more you customize the outfits. A beautiful young woman in girls clothes. With knee-high socks, and those mary jane shoes that you insist on wearing with everything. They seem to be your pride and joy, never not clean and shiny. 

You’re so darling, galavanting around with your friends. Skirt, and hair swinging in tandem. The more games that you play, the more your uniform starts to dishevel. Your white shirt coming partially untucked. A sock falling slightly down your calf. When you bend over to fix it, the beautiful slope of your leg elongates, your skirt rising up--  _just_  below your underwear. The briefest glimpse of white cotton brings warmth into the base of your father’s belly, a sharp pang of desire hits him hard in his crotch. 

As the sky begins to darken, the fireworks master announces that he’ll be starting the show soon. Your friends are not quite as interested in the fireworks now that both of your brothers have shown up to inadvertently steel some of their attention away from you. Bad boys; taking attention away from the glowing birthday girl. You, however, don’t seem disheartened in the least, informing the one friend who hasn’t become enamored yet, that you’ll be watching the fireworks from your balcony.  

The girl doesn’t so much as have the courtesy to offer to go with you. Hmpf, fickle friends. That’s fine, Sojiro will be taking this opportunity to spend some time with his darling daughter on her birthday. As you start to run past him Sojiro extends his hand. You come to a screeching halt. With a big, glittering grin just for him as you extend your own daintier, smaller hand-- accepting his invitation. 

Sojiro walks you to your room, with your arm looped under his. He asks, “Has the celebration been everything you wanted?” 

“Oh, yes, Papa, thank you!” you say, hugging his arm a little closer to you. The fabric of your shirt pulling a little tighter against your body. Close up, like this, the shirt is a little transparent. He can see the faint blue stitching in the lining of your bra, and wonders if your underwear matches. 

“Anything for you, my dear.” 

Sojiro lets you go as he enters your room. Allowing you to run ahead of him and take your position against the balcony railing. He slowly slides the door closed, taking his time, watching as the wind whips your skirt back and forth. Carries your hair to and fro, looking like a silk ribbon. 

He walks up behind you, placing one hand just beside yours on the railing. Testing the waters he places his other palm flat against the small of your back. Your father waits until the fireworks start up-- the first set setting the sky ablaze with bright golds and sparkling silvers. Pretty little twinkling stars that fall down from the sky. Not that he saw any of them, he was watching his precious girls face as he glides his hand farther, down and down. 

It’s not till his fingertips graze the tops of your bare thigh that he notices the first bit of apprehension. Despite it, Sojiro continues. Lest you start to think that it was a mere accident and begin to relax. He looks down as he flips your skirt up, taking note that, yes, your panties also have the blue stitching. Your arms start to shake, and you seem to want to look at him. “Keep focusing on your fireworks, princess.” His breath, hot. Voice, commanding and husky, lips just pressed to the shell of your ear.  

He hooks a finger into the crotch of your underwear... slowly tugs it to the side. Leans forward pressing his crotch to your hips, making sure you’re aware of how good your father thinks you look in your outfit today. Your breath has already become uneven, intakes getting caught inside of your chest, as the exhales come out shaky and labored. Sojiro focuses back in on your face, on the way your eyes have become glassy and far away. Lips parted in a lazy 'O'. The colors of the fireworks looking beautiful swimming in the reflection of your eyes. 

He starts with one finger, nothing too overwhelming. He hasn’t spooked you too badly yet, would hate to scare you off by starting off harshly. Grazes the pad of his middle finger between your folds, stopping just shy of your nub. Rubs circles around your entrance, till he’s worked a decent amount of slick from you. Then he pushes his finger inside of you. Sighs into your ear because you’re so tight. So very tight, and squeezing, and that’s just one finger. 

Sojiro’s strokes pull the smallest whimpers from you. Shy sounds. Carried away by the wind and lost in the crowds of sounds surrounding you. If he didn’t have his ear so close to your mouth he’d be missing them. As the fireworks are still going off, demanding all of the attention of the people in the courtyard below. Loud booms and crackles, lighting up the sky with new colors and impossible shapes.

Your father's hand inches over the top of yours on the railing. Weaves his fingers between your own and squeezes, feeling warm and comforting. His finger pumping in and out of you, stroking your virgin walls. Working to make you’re more plaint and open to accept more thick digits. When Sojiro is satisfied with your arousal, he stops his motions to carefully line up a second finger, pushes it in to join the first. Your body lurches, and for the first time, it seems like you might start to panic. 

Sojiro kisses your cheek assuredly. “You are okay, you are just sensitive.” He gives you another kiss one right at the soft spot under your ear. “Focus on the fireworks.”

“Okay, Papa.” You grip the railing tighter, neck taught, lips pressed together, a slight tremble on your chin.  

Good girl.

You're ready for him to up his pace. He strokes a little faster, digs a little deeper. Your soft whimpers turning into softer moans. He couldn’t be more pleased, you’re so  _precious._  He stops to add a third and final digit, and that’s when your legs start to shake and your chin drops down towards your chest. The tears that had brimmed in your water line fall down your cheeks, some plummet to the wooden railing below you. 

He whispers into your ear, “Does it feel good?” 

You nod, “Yes, Papa.” 

Sojiro works you at a pace he’s sure will bring you to and over the edge. Pumping and stroking, going deeper ‘til he can feel your folds against his knuckles. He looks out to the courtyard for a moment to see one of your friends trying to wave at you, but you don’t see them. “Wave back to your friend,” He informs you, not stopping his pace to allow it to be easy for you. 

You snap your head to attention, pick up your free hand and wave. Giving them a forced smile, not at all like the one he received earlier. Quickly drop your hand back down to the railing before you lose your balance. Your hells had lifted up off the ground a long time ago, the front of your skirt flowing back and forth softly with the momentum. More tears flow down your face as you start to come. You can’t help that your body tries to get away from the intense sensations, so your father wraps his arm around your waist and holds you steady throughout your orgasm. 

The fireworks are coming to an end as he pulls out of you. Turns you around so he can wipe the tears off of your flushed cheeks. Straighten out your skirt, and retuck your shirt for you. Sojiro’s not any less hard than he was when this started, but today is about you, not about anyone else. He brings you in close for a hug and a kiss on top of your head. Pats your back and dismisses you, “Go enjoy the rest of your party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	2. SojiroxSis!ReaderxHanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Papa and Hanzo Sandwich

Your big brother pistons you from behind. Muscled arms wrapped around your rib cage. Holding you so tight you can barely breathe. While your father has a firm hold under your knee. Spreading you wide for his viewing pleasure. Watching as his eldest son keeps working your pussy into a red and raw mess. The bed creaking to match Hanzo’s rhythm. Already a little too loud for comfort, so your brother covers up your mouth to muffle your moans. You know you’re being too loud; but how can you help your self when your feeling so surrounded and so full?

“Such a good, good girl,” Sojiro praises. Dragging his hands down your thighs. Shifting closer, closing the gap between his and your crotch, so he can let his cock rub along your swollen clit. You whine at the sensation, feeling too warm, too close to the edge to be teased.

Your brother’s teeth grit against your shoulder. Hanzo is only a few deep thrusts from coming but he has to ask first, “Father can I come?” He begs through clenched teeth, boarding on clamping down onto the tender flesh of your shoulder.

“Of course, you have earned it, my son.”

With his father’s blessing, Hanzo buries himself inside of you. Comes hard, in between small little whimpers, that sound musical right on top of your ear. Sending shivers and more back arching pangs into your throbbing cunt. The first bit of heat you receive tonight pools at the base of your belly; feels soothing, feels right.

“What do you say, Hanzo?”

“Thank you, Father.”

Sojiro hands over your leg to your Anija, "Hold her steady for me.” Hanzo takes your leg without any hesitation. Holds it higher, spreads you even wider than your Papa had. Causes a pull and a burn to settle into your strained inner muscles. Your father takes one hip in his hand, places his other palm onto your mound. Hovers his thumb just over your clit as he pushes his cock all the way inside of you.

Your Anija’s hands are too busy keeping you steady, so Sojiro uses his mouth to keep you silent giving you a kiss that is so passionate you feel dizzy, barely able to think, let alone get a proper hold around his torso. He pulls away only to ask you, “Sweet girl, would you like to come?”

You nod, over and over again. Hardly being able to find words. You just want to bury yourself in his neck, inhale your Papa’s unique musk and come, feeling safe, knowing you’re their main object of desire. Sojiro gives it to you hard enough to bring himself to the edge, all while rubbing your clit with enough pressure to bring you there with him. Sojiro comes inside of you silently, holding you close to his chest. His only tells being the twitching cock and the ropes of come shooting up inside of you. Your walls clenching and milking him of every last drop.  

Your Papa sighs against the top of your head. Gingerly helps you to lie back into your big brother’s arms. A new erection pressing up against the swell of your ass.

Sojiro admires all the delightful little flushes on your body. The red shaped handprints, the way your body shakes ever-so-slightly from after pangs.

At the same time that you’re grinding your backside against Hanzo, you’re gazing at Sojiro as well. You love the sight of your father like this, normally perfect and never caught looking winded or tired. Here looking slightly unraveled, hair askew from its ponytail, with sweat on his brow and all from fucking his precious little girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	3. Trans!Son/Sojiro/Omorashi

It’s a terribly hot day for training, but come rain or shine you will do what is required of you. So you down gulps and gulps of water in an effort to keep yourself hydrated, following in your father’s footsteps around your home. The Castle proves to be an excellent track on its own, with different levels and terranes. You’ve been going for a couple miles now, and it’s shameful that a man of Sojiro’s age is so much better at this than you, but alas you still do your best not to disappoint your father. 

As your legs start to feel weak and fatigued you start to wonder why the hell your brother’s aren’t being made to do this. Then you remember, oh yeah, it’s because they’re beating the shit out of each other in the Dojo (or at least trying their hardest the last time you saw them). As you start to let your mind wander it suddenly gets pulled back by a sudden intense pressure at the base of your stomach. 

The moment you come to a halt Sojiro is questioning, “Why have you stopped?” 

“I just–” You have to pause to catch your breath, “I need to pee, Father.” 

“You can go when we are finished.” He doesn’t allow you any time to protest, no but’s, no complaints. Even if you had had time to get a word in edgewise you could already hear the, “No son of mine quits while they’re ahead.”  

Fine. Holding it shouldn’t be a problem anyway… 

But it is, it’s fucking terrible, and all you can think about it the heat in your belly. The overwhelming pressure that pushes up against your pee hole. Every footstep that lands sending spikes of unusual sensations through your crotch. You’re so ashamed, too apprehensive to try and ask for a break again, so you end up getting to a breaking point where you’ve got no choice. At this point, you’d be lucky if you made it to a bathroom in time. 

You abruptly stop and whine, “Papa, I’m sorry, I really need to go, _please_. I’ll be–” 

Sojiro snaps his attention to you, “Are we finished?” Chest heaving, cheeks flushed as he approaches you. 

“N-no, but I’m gonna–” Piss yourself if what you were going to say, but it’s already started. A little trickle spurts out into your boxers, and your gut reaction is to cup your crotch to try and stop it. As your holding on, pressing your fingers up against your hole for dear life, your Father forces you down onto your knees in front of him. 

When you look up at him with shocked eyes, he looks back down at you with half-lidded ones. A small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he’s  _pleased._ Your father commands in a calm, steady voice, “Spread your legs, keep holding it.” 

You do as you’re told. Spread your knees even though they’re scraping against the hot concrete. Keep yourself upright, even though your leg muscles are shaking from exhaustion. But most importantly you keep holding it, even though you can feel your stomach muscles cramping. Then Sojiro lifts up his foot, plants the tip of his shoe against your aching little cock. Pressing down ‘til his foot is just underneath your hole. 

“Very good, my son. You can release now.” 

You fall forward, hiding your face against his leg and do just that. Let the piss stream out of you, hotter than the weather. A long, lewd sounding moan escaping your mouth, it feels damn near orgasmic to finally just let it go. 

It stains your white running shorts, soaks your father’s shoe. Creating a large dark puddle on the concrete, a big visual of your shame. You cover your face as Sojiro takes his foot away from you. He leans forward and helps guide you to your feet, removes your hands from your face. 

“We can finish early for just today I think, let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	4. Voyeurism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sojiro and Hanzo love to watch the younger siblings fuck.

Sojiro and Hanzo are well-aware of yours and Genji’s trysts. It’s just a matter of which moment it is throughout the day. The very next moment it could them involved in a tryst with you. It is exhilarating to peep in on the two of you, regardless of the knowledge and previous circumstances. Sojiro likes to pretend that his daughter and son don’t know that he’s watching them fuck on the floor of their own personal Sentō. The bathhouse being a favored place of his two youngest children. He doesn’t always ‘catch’ you, as this is never planned, but today is one of those days when his instincts were right.

Here they both are Hanzo and him, silent, creeping. As if you haven’t look him directly in the eyes through the small crack in the door several times now. Letting your mouth hang open, while his younger son has your legs bent back in a mating press, driving his cock deep inside of you with every single thrust. Like you haven’t been craning your neck to get a peek at your Anija, who’s leaning on the other side of the sliding wooden door with his own peeping space.

Hanzo can’t stop focusing in on how the water flies off of your legs with every meeting of Genji’s hips against the backs of your thighs. The water that drips from Genji’s annoyingly green locks to fall onto your forehead, a few making it in-between your gaping lips. That tantalizing dumbstruck look that Genji wears every time he is giving… or getting a good fucking.

Genji’s been focused, toned lean muscle keeping him up and balanced against the slick smooth surface of the floor. It’s only when he wraps those arms around your waist to pull you up into his lap, that he makes his first brief eye contact with his brother. He gives Hanzo a cheeky grin, a smile that says,  _“Are you enjoying yourself, Anjia?”_ He is, he always does, watching his siblings go at it like animals, carelessly fucking in a space just about any of the help would wander into.

Sojiro adores this part, so much it causes his cock demand attention under his yukata. The last stretch when all of the tells of your impending orgasms start to show. You wrap your body as tightly around your brother as you can get. Biting your lip, whispering meek little curse words into his ear. It’s so quiet, save for the sounds of fevered fucking, that he can still hear them. Only his little girl, in  _this_ kind of situation, could possibly manage make such a vulgar word like, “Fuck” sound so… innocent. The words inflection as it comes out of your mouth, pooling hot warmth in his belly. Makes his balls feel heavy, pulsating as they pull-up close to his body, feeling so full. 

Genji’s back becomes taunt, his shoulder blades pulling together as he comes. Holding you flush against his hips, as you chant his name through your own orgasm. You stay clinging to Genji for just a little while longer. Rolling your hips, trying to keep your orgasm going for as long as possible. Until, finally, you’ve had enough, letting yourself slowly fall backward out of your brothers grasp. Your back arching, elongating your naked torso as you slump onto the ground.

Sojiro growls, low in his chest. The show is over and it’s time to go take care of swollen cock elsewhere. All apart of the fun, leaving the two of you to go about your day as if this never happened. Sojiro gingerly slides the door shut, takes his eldest by the arm and tugs once. A silent demand to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	5. Jealous PapaxSis!Reader

Sojiro is no fool. Observant, with a gut instinct that’s never failed him before. He’s long been privy of that fact that his kids are fucking each other. It does help that Genji can’t keep his hands to himself. Thinks with the head of his dick more than with the brain in his skull. Gripping your ass during practice, ‘sneaking’ kisses onto your neck. Hanzo isn’t so blatant with his affection for you. However, the guards report to him rather absentmindedly that the two of you often sneak into each other’s rooms at night.

The first time this had been reported to him Sojiro had brushed it off. After the nonchalant response, the guards stopped reporting it to him as if it was something that needed to be taken care of. If the head of the empire doesn’t care then why should they? So they don’t, well, that’s not wholly true, they do  _love_  to gossip about it. 

It is true, Sojiro doesn’t necessarily care. He’s got far more pertinent things to monitor. To take care of, to fix. Looking at his kids he can see why they’d have trouble keeping their hands to themselves. They’re all fine, healthy, glowing specimens. If they insist on experimenting and fucking around, he’d rather they did it at home.  

But lately, he’s been finding himself feeling… envious. Pent-up; a tightly coiled snake of jealousy writhing around in his chest. The off-handed updates on his children’s indiscretions almost always start with you. The vaguer the descriptions get the more he starts to fantasize, ‘til it gets to the point when he doesn’t want to receive updates anymore. They’re starting to make him angry, the thoughts of his sons receiving all of your eager attention. While he receives nothing but meager smiles, and greetings in brief passings.    

Perhaps he just needs to show you why you should be yearning for his affections. After all, he is the elder here. He has plenty of things he could be teaching his daughter. So he’ll find you later and show you what an experienced man can do. Make you come so hard that you won’t be able to think about anyone else but him. Your brothers will have to fight for your attention once he’s done showing you what you’ve been missing out on.

When he does find you it’s spontaneously as he’s leaving the sauna and you’re coming out of the pool after a swim. You’re casually towel drying your hair, pat drying your body gingerly, not any wiser to anyone else that is around you. Your muscles are tired from your work out, so your father’s sudden looming presence over you nearly makes your knees buckle. He grips your hips and pushes you into the corner of the little hallway connecting the sauna to the indoor pool.

He leans into you, applying pressure with his hands all up along your hips, into your waist. Leans forward and kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. With all of the passion and want your brothers’ kiss you with, but with more precision. He smells of mint and tastes like it too. You open your mouth and let him do whatever he wants. Sojiro slips his tongue into your mouth, lightly grazing it across your own. Not too much, and not too little. Sucking on each lip. Taking your bottom one between his teeth, until you whimper from the bite.

Pulls away every once in a while to stroke your cheekbone and allow you some breath. Perhaps you should be more taken aback that you being cornered like this, but you are your father’s daughter after all and just as observant. You knew it was only a matter of time before Sojiro came and got in on what he must rightfully think is his. You’ve long been waiting for this moment, wishing that you’re Papa would come and just  _take_ you like this. 

He lifts you up and you instinctively lock your legs around his waist. Pull his towel off of his hips, and tug your swimsuit to the side for him. Sojiro smiles at all of the initiative your taking, “Have you not had your fix today?” 

You shake your head, no, actually you haven’t. Sojiro hums in approval, “Good. Let me give my girl what she needs.” He wraps one arm around your waist and lowers you down onto his cock. Thrusts into you and rubs your clit with his free hand at the same time. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold on, the pressure immediately present and hot in your belly. 

When he latches onto your neck, sucks, and kisses in between breathy groans on your dewy skin, you come. Intensely and loudly, digging your heels into the dimples of his ass. You snake your hands into his hair and breathe into his ear, “Come, Papa, I wanna  _feel_  it.”

Anything for his little girl. He buries himself deep inside of you and comes harder than he has in years. Gritting his teeth and twitching from head to toe. It would seem you’ve inadvertently shown him what  _he’s_  been missing out on. You stay clinging to him, loving the bulk of his body and the warmth it gives off. All the little convulsions of his shoulders feeding into your hungry ego. 

He whispers into your ear, “You’ll remember your father the next time you have an ich?” 

“Of course, Papa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	6. SojiroxSis!Reader (Fluff)

This week has been one of those weeks where nothing is feeling right to you. Every little mistake you make during training, every answer you forget during lessons are causing your anxiety to skyrocket. It has been one slip up right after the other, you can’t seem to do a thing right as of late. You may be third in line, but being third in line to such a grand and powerful empire, while carrying the name Shimada is overwhelming at times. The pressure to be smart, skilled, and an all around Jack of all trades is still heavy, and ever-present. You are still expected to be  _exceptional,_ and your display of skills had been far from that this week.

You try to reel your distressed feelings in. Hiding your shaking hands in between your legs. Breathing through your nose and out through the mouth in an effort to quell the unwanted amounts of adrenaline coursing through your body. You just want your leg to stop bouncing, for your heart to stop racing for no good reason. You’ve already done everything you can think of to try and self-soothe. Drank tea, exercised, ate some comfort-food, and meditated. Nothing works for long, only giving brief relief before the impending fear settles back in. 

There is one other thing you could try. Something you’ve been denying yourself, as you just don’t want to bother him. As you walk to your father’s office the guards bow and greet you, let you know that your father is in a meeting right now. Of course he is, you should have known. You nod solemnly and turn to walk away, but as you do the door to his office swings open. Your father appears escorting a dangerous looking client out of the office. 

Sojiro notices you right away. Hadn’t planned on stepping out of his office, but now feels the need to keep his body between you and the man as he passes you by to take his leave out of the castle. Even with two giant bodyguards with dangerous guns on their backs and hips, no one is good enough to ensure your protection but him. He stops just in front of you as the man looks back to give Sojiro one last bow before he leaves, blocking any view of you. 

“I look forward to doing more business with you,” He says in a professional, even tone, as he looks back at one of the guards and nods. A silent command to escort the man out of his home. 

Sojiro senses the downtrodden aura coming from your stance, your face. The way you don’t greet him with a smile when he faces you, tells him something is wrong. “Do you have something to tell me?” 

“No… well, it’s not important– you’re too busy–” 

He silences you with a light hand against your shoulder, guiding you along with him into his office. He can carve some time out of his schedule for his baby girl. Seeing you so upset twists knifes in his stomach, he may be man made of ‘stone’. Always poised and even-headed, but when it comes to you he must admit that he is weak. 

“Speak your mind.” A soft demand, with no real sense of urgency behind it.  

It takes a few moments of unusual fidgeting and downcast eyes for you to finally let go of what’s bothering you. You’re just so afraid that you might be wasting his time with such trivial fears, but you finally just tell the simple truth. You’re feeling self-conscious. Like you’re not good enough, witty enough, or strong enough to be considered an asset to this family. 

You’re slipping. Can’t even seem to master tasks you had already earned expert marks in. You don’t want to disappoint him. You can’t seem to–

“Alright. Alright.” Sojiro approaches you calmy as the tears start to fall down your face. Now you’ve gone and really worked yourself up. He holds you close to his chest and lets you cry against his shoulder. Rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back. Resting his chin atop your head, while he gently scratches the back of your head. 

Sojiro waits patiently. Letting you get out the tears that you’ve clearly been holding back for some time now. No matter how hard it is for him to hear it he won’t try and force you to stop. Once your shoulders have stopped shaking, and the sniffling has almost subsided, he takes a single step away from you. 

“Even a Shimada such as yourself will have imperfections, slumps. It is how you handle those imperfections that makes you a  _dragon_.” He lifts your chin, cups your face and wipes away your tears with his thumbs, “You consume your doubts, you do not let them consume you.” 

You don’t look like you quite believe him. So he cocks his head to the side and grins. Crosses his arms across his chest, “Tell me, what are you?”

You say meekly, “A dragon…” 

He shakes his head back and forth, “Dragons are much louder than that.”

Your cheek turns even redder but you smile, you smile  _and_  giggle. “A dragon!” 

He takes your cheek back into his palm again and says, “And  _always_ a Shimada. My daughter, we shall figure out how to pull you out of your slump.” Sojiro watches for a moment as the radiance starts to flow back into your face, “Though something tells me it will work itself out.” 

You grab ahold of his arm with both of your hands and kiss his palm, “Thank you, Papa.”

He says quietly, “I love you.” You were already feeling much calmer, but hearing that makes your smile turn into a bashful grin. It doesn’t help to calm the beating of your heart, but it is racing for a much better reason now. Those three words are rare to hear in your family; a treasured phrase. Usually shown more through actions than through words. But the simple phrase is still enough to give you a rush of good feeling endorphins. He continues, “Do not ever doubt that you are good enough.”

You throw yourself against him and hug him tight. You’ve already stained his shirt with tears, you might as well wrinkle it too. You  _wish_  a command from him could make the doubt go away forever. His words carry so much weight that it almost feels as if it could. “I love you, too.” You mumble into his chest, trying to keep new tears from showing because you’re just feeling that much better. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” 

Of course, you would! You nearly bounce up and down from excitement. Your break down already in the past, “Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	7. GenjixSister!Reader

You’re Anija is such a  _slut,_  and it infuriates you to no end. Genji’s never around. Always seeming to want to hang out with every stranger he meets, rather than spend time with his own little sister. You shouldn’t lurk on all his social media the way that you do. You always just end up pissing yourself off. Ending up hurt, when he posts yet another picture of that handsome face of his next to yet another… floozy. 

They don’t  _deserve_  him. His time; his body. He’s a charming prince, he deserves a princess… he deserves you. 

Tonight you’re doing exactly what you shouldn’t be; fuming over a picture of him and some girl giving him a kiss on the cheek. Then your mind starts to spiral– he’ll probably fuck her tonight. Stay at her apartment rather than come home. You’ll end up not seeing Genji in the flesh for days, possibly a week. Obsessively checking your phone for updates, ‘til he decides to grace you all with his presence. 

In this latest picture, this girl was holding a plastic cup with the clubs name on it. You could show up there, take him by surprise and…

One hour later you’ve let your impulses get the better of you. You’re dressed, hair done up, skirt short, and tight. Not quite a girl with a plan, but you do have a destination and you’re headed there. Getting into the club is easy. It’s not the loudest most crowded place, so finding your brother should be… 

There he is! With his arms wrapped around that  _girl._ Grinding up against her back, rubbing his hands all along the fronts of her thighs. You don’t even think about it, you just storm right up to him and take a hand full of his shirt and tug. Genji spins around wearing a winning grin, accompanied by a curious look. A look that is quickly replaced by shock, “Sis! I– is something wrong?”  

While you’re shaking your head,  _no_ , your Anija’s eyes are trailing down your body. Taking in your unusual outfit, and your even more unusual presence. You still don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but what you do know is that you need to get him alone. So you take him by his hand and pull him along with you. The girl from the photo whines, “Genji! Where are you going?!” 

You glower back at her, throwing bright, and deadly daggers. Genji calls back, “I will be back, don’t worry!” 

_No, he will not._

Genji keeps trying to get you to explain your presence. But you’re not listening to him. You’re too busy dragging him into a bathroom, while he’s trying to inform you, “This is the men’s room, sis!” Whatever. You shove him into a stall and shut the door. The men at the urinals and sinks, gawking at the sight of you. Now that you’re in here the two of you stand close, in stunted silence. 

Genji is absolutely beside himself, his eyes perpetually wide. Mouth slightly agape, “What are we doing in here, sis?” Then he just motions to your entire self, “Why are y–”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish, as you’ve thrown yourself at him. Jumped up and locked your legs around his waist. Kissing him desperately, you cup his face in your hands. Your brother has to fall against the stall wall to avoid toppling over completely from your ferocity. Once he gets his bearings he actually kisses you back. Wastes no time shoving his hands under your skirt so he can support you with two hands full of your ass. 

You tear yourself away from him and shove your hand between your bodies so you can undo his pants. Genji’s panting, cheeks flushed, breath smelling of sweet alcohol against your mouth. For a moment it seems like he’s going to tell you to slow down. Like he might actually want to  _talk_  about it. But then you grab a hold of his hard cock, and Genji suddenly can’t remember what he was going to say. 

You drop down onto your knees and jerk his cock right in front of your face. Hover your mouth over the tip and breath onto it. The shaft twitches in your grasp, leaks pre-come out of the slit. You pause to look up at him, as you slowly let your tongue roll out of your mouth. Placing the very tip of it against the clear salty liquid, lap it up and croon, “Anija, you can take a picture if you want.” 

You let him contemplate the idea, while you take his cock into your mouth. Start to bob your head down and back up again. Stroke his shaft at a steady pace. Moan around his dick, trace your tongue along the veins. You suck hard as you pull it out of your mouth, ensuring it will cause a lewd pop. A string of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to his ruddy head. 

Genji says, “Wait, wait. Stay just like that… look at me.” He weaves one hand into your hair, while he holds his phone in the other. Camera pointed at you, he takes a couple of photos. Whispers under his breath, “Holy shit, sis…”

“Did you get one you like?” 

His face scrunches up,  _“Yeah,”_  He breathes out, baffled. As if to question how you could possibly think that the very first one wasn’t already perfect. 

You hum in understanding and then get back to work. Stroke faster and suck harder, with more purpose in mind. Bring him to orgasm within the span of a minute. His fingers tightening in your hair, bringing you just a little too far down onto his cock as his come spurts into your mouth. You hit him on his thigh as you try and fight the gag. Gulp down your brother’s seed as it shoots up against the back of your throat. 

You stand up and wipe your mouth. Don’t even bother to put him away. Turn to leave, but Genji doesn’t want to let you go.  _Good._

“Where are you going? What’s the rush?” He whines as he tries to reach out and grab you. 

You smack his hand away, “If you want more, you have to come home to get it.” With that, you open up the door and bounce. Uncaring about your brother’s immodesty… not that he cares about it either. Genji stuffs his cock back into his pants and exits the stall, hell-bent on following you home.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	8. SojiroxSis!Reader/Omorashi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sister!Reader pees in Papa's mouth and then gets ate out.

You wiggle and whine, your pussy hovering just over your Papa’s face. Sojiro’s hands glide up and down your thighs in an attempt to soothe your fired up nerves. You were a good girl, had held it for your Papa just like he had asked you to, but you didn’t know exactly why the command had been made. 

“Mmpf– Papa,” The ‘A’ dragged out in a pathetic sounding whine. “I don’t know…” 

He takes his hand and presses it against the base of your belly, causing you to clench and try to pull away. You don’t get to go very far, your Papa holding you steady with his other hand. Pressing against the small of your back, bringing you back forward. Sojiro leans his face against the inside of your thigh, rubbing his beard along your sensitive skin. Keeps nuzzling ‘til he gets a giggle and a meek little demand, “Stop; that tickles!” 

He pushes against your swollen bladder again, “Come now, Princess. Indulge me and I will reward you.” 

You bring your hands to your face. Trying to cover up the blush from the heat that is running ramped through your body. The thought of letting go into your father’s mouth is just so… blasphemous; seems horribly disrespectful. But he is  _asking_  you to– “Are you sure?” You ask from behind your hands.  

“You are such a sweet girl,” He says as he kisses the space just below your mound, “I want to take you inside of me– bring us even closer.”

“Okay…. okay,” You say covering up the entirety of your face. Your father would rather you watch, but if that’s what you need to do to finally relax and let go, then he’ll allow it for your first time. He wraps his arms around your thighs, readjusts you, helping you to find just the right angle. 

A wonderful thing happens as you start to let go and the first bit of piss falls against his tongue: you remove your hands from your face and look straight in his eyes. He makes sure to smile for you, let you know you’re doing a good job. The look on your face still seems horrified, but you can’t help the gleam of arousal from the release. It feels fantastic to let it go, and even though you had been so apprehensive, thought this to be so…  _nasty,_  you still can’t help but watch. 

Sojiro takes in every single drop. Save for the ones that happen to get away from him, the lines of pee rolling down the sides of his mouth. He swallows it all down, savoring the warmth of his daughter as it settles heavy into his belly. His hips lift off the ground in response from just how much he  _loves_  it. A heartbeat in the head of his hard cock.

“Did I do good?” You ask, still not quite believing that you were doing something for your Papa that he would actually enjoy.  

He licks his lips, his eyes focused on the last bits of wetness glistening on your pretty folds. “You did perfectly,” He growls as he brings your pussy to meet his mouth. Sojiro’s abrupt enthusiasm to slip his tongue between your folds is enough to make your head spin. You fall forward onto your hands, just brace yourself and let him have at it. Not that you’re in charge here at all, but you are locked in and willing to be so. 

Your Papa eats out your pussy like he’s been waiting for this all day. Perhaps he has, and just so eager to taste every possible part of you. Sucking on your folds, running the tip of his tongue around your entrance. Dragging his spongy wetness agonizingly slow across your swollen nub. Nuzzling it with the end of his nose, before he finally gives it a little suckle. 

He kneads the top of your thighs, as he teases you for just a little while longer. The more he starts to steadily suck and circle his tongue against your clit, the more than moans start to flow freely from your chest. Your body relaxing and tensing up at the same time. Your weight settles heavier onto his face, while the muscles in your thighs seize up and let go sporadically. 

Suddenly your hands go from the floor to his hair, “Papa, can I come!?” 

“Mhmm.”  

“Oh! Thank you, thank you–” You continue to say as you gyrate and grind against his mouth. Your body twitching, toes curling, in response to your intense release of all the pressure and heat. When your done Sojiro sits you back down onto his chest, massages your thighs through all of your lovely little after pangs. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	9. SojiroxSis!Reader/NON-CON/Somno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a Non-Con/Somnophilia drabble

Sojiro waited for much longer than he usually would for someone he’s summoned to his office. Sinking down cup after cup of saki, waiting for you. You never show and the night is growing older and older. He’s officially grown tired of waiting, of being patient. You hadn’t even bothered to let him know if you came back home. The initial text that you would, in fact, meet him in his office being the last thing he received from you. 

As he is making his way to your room, the reality that you not only snuck out but deified his summons really starts to settle in. It seeps into his muscles, causes his blood to race. Heat to rise in his face. Sojiro never thought he’d see such rebellion from his little girl. And yet, here is, being made to  _find_  you. To ensure that you are where you’re supposed to be. At home, safe in your bed. 

Sojiro slides your door open to find that you are here. Fast asleep,  _no,_  passed out in your bed. Face down, still wearing your day clothes. Your legs splayed, hair thrown over your face. He stands over you watching your sleeping form, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. The anger he carried with him during his walk here leaving his body, the boiling heat being replaced with a simmering one. Low-seated and far more desired than the former. It is typical but he can’t stay mad at you.

He takes off his shoes, shirt, but leaves on his pants. Carefully climbs onto the bed, sits next to you, and gingerly pushes the hair out of your face. Testing, he runs the very tips of his fingers across your cheekbone. A barely there graze, just whisper of a touch, of course you don’t stir. Just how long will Sojiro be gifted with your darling sleeping form? Just how far can he go before you wake up, and question him? He shall have to see. 

Sojiro climbs on top of you, straddles your hips. Takes his time just… touching you, admiring your body. Caressing your face, gently moving your shirt up on over your head. Peeling the jeans off of your legs. He has to pause to compose himself; because every single part of you is so soft, so delicate. You’ve got the most beautiful slopes and pillowy hips. A  _precious_  young woman. So very much like your mother when she was young… 

He splays his hands down on either side of your back. Presses his thumbs into the flesh along your spine, and moves up ‘til he gets to the nape of your neck. Lays down on top of you, only applying a minute amount of his weight. Then Sojiro lays kisses on your neck. Runs his tongue against of the soft spot under your ear, and you finally start to stir. Sojiro stills himself, waits ‘til you’re done groaning and shifting before he continues. 

But every future kiss pulls the softest moan from you. Any caress makes your body slightly shift, causes you to mewl and sigh. Every little whimper, every unconscious response to his touch is driving him insane. His cock is so painfully hard. Throbbing and begging to be hugged tightly inside of your pretty little pussy. His whole body yearns to be close to you. On you. Inside of you. You’re already  _his_ , so he might as well start treating you as such. 

You groan deep in your chest as you start to wake. Your eyes fluttering open, only to fall closed again immediately. They’re still too heavy, your body too sleep ridden to have the strength to keep them open. Your consciousness, however, it quickly becoming lucid. Someone’s on top of you, pressing the spongy head of a bare cock to your entrance. You roll your eyes from behind your lids, thinking that it must be Genji. 

He must have snuck in here to get his fill of you. Scratch the ich that he couldn’t get to while he was with you at the club. As he lays down on top of you, he slowly presses his hips flush with your ass. Your teeth grit as you take a sharp inhale of breath, that  _burns_. The stretch terribly slow and ongoing, before he’s got no more to give you. 

When he lies down on top of your still pliant body, something feels… off. A lot, actually. You’re so much more surrounded than you should be. A bit of body hair tickles against your back, grazes against your cheek. Not Genji, that wouldn’t be Hanzo either. Your hands grip the sheets as he starts to rock into you. Hitting your limit with every, single roll. 

It’s starting to feel good, but the panic from the stranger at your back is overwhelming any other sensation. Panic welling up into your chest, threatening to spill out of your mouth. You pry your eyes open and blink to get rid of the blurriness. Crane your neck to see– your  _fathers_  face, eyes shut tight, face twisted with pleasure.

The panic stops swelling, but it doesn’t exactly go away. Your voice cracks as you question, “Papa?” Tears rolling down your cheeks, as you try to prop yourself up onto your elbows. 

Sojiro grabs a hold of your wrists and holds them fast underneath your body. He kisses your cheek, then your neck, so tenderly, as his hips snap harshly against your backside. “Princess, you are so– tight.” He sighs, blowing air on to your mouth, “Warm… feel so good– why would you defy me?”

There’s no use pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about, “I was–ah!– just t-tired, Papa.”   

“Lie,” He whispers into your ear. 

“Drunk.” 

Sojiro nuzzles his nose along your cheekbone, hums in approval. “That’s better.” He transfers both of your wrists into one hand, still having no problem keeping your were he wants you to be. Snakes his other hand down over your mound, lays two fingers over your clit, “In the future, I expect better from you.”

He massages circles, nibbles on your earlobe. “Do you understand me?” 

“Ha… mmm,” You let your eyes fall shut again, trying to concentrate. The sharp pangs of heat making it nearly impossible to form words, “Ye-es, Papa.”   

“Good girl.” 

Your Papa rubs you fast, drives into you mercilessly. Keeps at it long after you’ve come. Long after you’ve buried your face in the sheets, and mewled so loudly that somebody must have heard. Wet, lewd slaps eventually come to an end, as he pulls out of you. Lets his ropes of cloudy white drape across your back. Groans into your ear, while he cups your pussy tightly through his orgasm. 

You try to turn over, but Sojiro won’t allow it. “No, no. Do not move. I’ll get you cleaned up.” He comes back with a warm washcloth. Gently cleans of the seed from your back, wipes up stickiness from between your legs. Lets you move just he hugs you close to his chest, as he lays down with you in his arms. Kisses your lips, “You don’t mind keeping me company, now do you?”

His body is so big, his musk so familiar and homely. You sigh as you finally start to relax, “No, of course not, Papa.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	10. Hanzo/GenjixSis!Reader/Breeding

It’s been nearly a month since the last time Hanzo used a condom while fucking you. The first time he stuck his bare cock inside of you it felt  _so_  good just to feel him raw, that you had hardly thought to protest it. When he had come, he had buried himself deep inside of you. So much so, that the pressure was nearly unbearable. Your big brothers thick, hot seed spurting straight into your womb. And when the threat of getting pregnant crossed your mind, instead of anxiety or fear you felt… hotter. 

Your body crooned to get more of it, your hips pressing even harder into Hanzo’s. Your walls clenched down around him, trying to milk him for all that he’s worth. You were so turned on that you had made him stick around to give you more. So Hanzo could fill you up ‘til your pussy was a leaking sticky mess. After the fifth time that night Hanzo had huffed into your ear, “You are going to look so divine– when you’re swollen… glowing.” Lowering himself down your body so that he could kiss your belly, nuzzle his face into it as if he could already feel it. Then there was no denying exactly what your Anija was trying to do.  

It was easy to get Genji on board; almost too easy. With the promises of constant sex, and the chance to get his dick wet. He winked and said, “Whatever I can do to help.” 

They steal you away whenever possible; no foreplay, no real chase for pleasure. Just the animalistic need to get their cocks inside of you. The irresistible urge to always keep you pumped full of them. Hard and fevered quickies, whenever and wherever possible. Stamina willing, of course; but you’re all young so there doesn’t seem to be any shortage of it. Never a moment when you aren’t walking around full of your brother’s seed, and a sticky white mess in your undies to match the mess inside of you. And yet, you’re still greedy for more; you can never have too much.

Genji loves the sight of it, the more there is, the more it starts to look like thick cream. Lewd dollops seeping out of your used cunt. He likes to watch it drip to the floor, roll down your inner thigh. Jerk his soft cock to it, ‘til he’s hard again and ready to add to even more.

Hanzo couldn’t possibly be more pleased with how proactive you are. Never having the doubt that you won’t be crawling into his bed for the night. Spearing yourself on his cock, bouncing up and down. Chasing after what you’ve become newly addicted to. Begging him to give you his seed, even though you already know he’s desperate to give you all of it. Allowing him to press himself into you long after he’s done, just to ensure that his come is settling as deep inside of you as possible.       

Big brother is tired, but he’s determined. Gyrating his hips into you, he’s nearly there again, you can tell. He becomes quite, gripping your hips tightly in his hands. Silent and unbreathing until he starts to come, then he whimpers and whines. The muscles in his stomach tightening meekly, huffing loudly, he snaps his hips against yours and stays there. Collapsing down on top of you, his body melting into a pool of exhaustion. You can’t feel it anymore; the heat, or the stickiness, but you know it’s there.  

Genji chuckles, “Need help rolling off, brother?”

Hanzo growls, an implicit,  _‘Don’t you dare.’_ He pushes himself off, and you find yourself instantly missing his weight. His bulky furnace of a body, keeping you surrounded and warm. Your naked body protesting the coolness of the air, in the form of several goosebumps. You’re about to whine about it, demand that  _somebody_  better get back on top of you when Hanzo says,  

“I think– that I am spent for the night.” 

Genji grabs ahold of your arm and leg, uses them both to flip you over onto your side. Lifts your leg up, gripping under your knee, and enters you. Leans forward and whispers into your ear, “That is what he always says isn’t it?” 

“Mhmm,” You hum as you press your lips to Genji’s. Already feeling much warmer, more comfortable. This is your new natural state, simply the way you’re meant to be these days. You whisper back, “We’ll see how he feels once you’re done with me.”

Genji rolls into you, grips your knee harder. A simmering look in his eyes as he glides his tongue from your bottom lip to over to your top one, “I am  _never_ done with you, sis.”

Hanzo is just a few days from telling you to go to the family doctor. You’ll need to get a proper test, boxed tests aren’t good enough for him. But you guys have something that’s even more foolproof. Even better than both a doctor’s test and the boxed stuff. You have the dragons. They sense Hanzo’s eagerness and whisper the news to him in the morning. Writhe around his arm and sing praises.  _She’s with child!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	11. SojiroxSis!Reader/Praise Kink

Papa starts at the base of your ankle. Laying firm, long, but gentle kisses. Taking his time in between each one just to look at you. “You are perfect,” He croons as he moves further up your leg. Running his hand down over your knee, kneading the wide expanse of your upper thigh. “The softest thing I’ve ever laid hands on.”  

You’re completely relaxed, hands splayed out at your sides. Just letting each new wave of goosebumps, and tingles come and go as they please. He just barely breathes over your mound, licks just below your navel. So subtle, but it’s still hot in the cool air of the room. A little moan rolling unabated from your mouth. “You are so sweet, Princess.” 

More kisses, a zigzag of them all the way up your tummy. Stopping to rub feather-light circles along your ribs with the calloused pads of his thumbs. Another lick, more pressing this time, up into the space between your breasts. Leaving a warm, wet trail in his wake. It chills quickly, causing your nipples to pebble and harden. A violent shiver, running from head to toe. “It is such a privilege to have you in my bed.” 

Sojiro cups one breast in each of his hands, giving them gentle squeezes. Nuzzles his face along the sensitive flesh. You giggle a little because his beard tickles, but it still feels so nice that you don’t want him to stop. You grip the sheets as he takes a nipple into his mouth, suckles, and rolls it around on his tongue. Papa licks his lips, kisses all around the darker toned flesh. 

He breathes out as he moves up to your clavicles. Traces them with his lips, lays down on top of you, instantly making you feel warm; the  _best_  blanket. You spread your legs and wrap them around his waist, interlock your ankles and settle in. Sojiro sucks on your neck, nibbles, and licks. Hums, “Good girl, you are the  _best_  girl,” right into your ear, your muscles seizing up in response. Heat pooling out of you. Your starting to feel needy, a plead sitting at the very tip of your tongue.

Papa slowly gyrates his hips against you, his erection rutting against your inner thigh. Heavy and leaking, you want it inside of you; you’re aching for it. He hovers just over your face, admiring your features while you admire his. He’s so handsome, all that salt and pepper in his hair. Regal, poised, with comforting but dangerous brown eyes. 

“Gorgeous girl,” he whispers as he kisses you, “my little princess.” 

You whine and pick up your hips as much as can from the bed. Wrap your arms around his neck, “Papa…”

Sojiro grins, getting the hint. Kisses you with more gusto this time. Making sure each lip gets its own personal attention. Slipping his tongue between them to graze it against your own. You lean into it, return all of the kisses. All the little nibbles, and hums with your own. 

When he sits up onto his elbows, you protest, “No… don’t go far.” 

“Do not worry,” he says as he reaches between your bodies, grabs a hold of his shaft and positions himself at your entrance, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He lays back down as he pushes himself inside, nice and easy. You’re relaxed and slick, welcoming him all the way in to the hilt. You coil yourself tighter around him, let out all of your shaky moans, and breaths. Papa gently weaves his fingers into your hair, keeping you from looking away from him. He wants to see every little twist and curl of pleasure as it appears on your face. 

Sojiro rocks his hips into you, steadily picking up the pace as the time passes. Breathing picking up in tandem with each other. You’re so engorged and hot deep down, that the gentle pace is still maddening. Feels fantastic, all the pressure and heat about to release. A few more rolls of his hips and you come undone. Clawing at his back, leaving red welts all across his shoulders. Crying out, ‘Papa’ over and over, between boisterous, ‘Ah’s’. 

Sojiro comes, deep inside of you. Grits his teeth, and tightens his grip in your hair. Stills and then relaxes on top of your body. Cups your face so he can lazily rub his thumb across your lips. Reminds you, that you are, in fact, “Perfect.”

You blissfully hum, you’re just so satisfied, and relaxed. “You’re the best, Papa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	12. HanzoxSister!Reader/Spanking

Today you woke up with quite the hankering. Just opened your eyes and you were immediately thinking about it. Perhaps it’s because you had been dreaming about it. It’s too bad if you had been, because you don’t remember it. You know exactly how to start your day off right. The perfect way just to plant the idea in Hanzo’s head. 

You show up exactly twenty-one minutes late to training with your Anija. Finding Hanzo leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, the slightest bit of irritation on his face. You smile sweetly and apologize, ‘you had woken up late’,  _oops_. Hanzo shrugs it off and you go on about your day. But that’s when you start messing up on purpose. Making him have to repeat himself. Cutting him off so you can say hi to staff, and your brother Genji as he walks by.  

The more you misbehave the more the line of his mouth tightens, and you just  _know_  that he’s thinking about it. You’re in such a cheeky mood that you think about teasing him, “What? Am I being  _bad_?” But you know that that would be considered asking for it and that’s just not how it works with him. So you keep pushing it, keep trying to get on his very last nerve. The last straw turning out to be you spilling dark purple sports drink all over his Gi (an actual accident). 

You knew you had done it when Hanzo looked around to make sure no one would see him drag you into the bathroom by your arm. He spins you around, demands that you bend over, and place your hands flat against the wall. You feign a little pout as if you hadn’t been trying to earn this. Slowly turn around and do as you’ve been told. 

“You have been insufferable today.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Not yet, you are not.” 

The gruff and threat in his voice makes you tremble with pangs of heat. Making sure to angle your face away from him, so that he doesn’t see your pleased grin. Anija tugs your sweats off of your bottom, lets them fall down around your ankles. Grabs the waist of your underwear at the small of your back and pulls up. Causing your cheeks to become bare, and the fabric to pull tightly against your sex. 

“How many of these do you think you deserve?” 

You’re so ready for it you can hardly think. As many as he  _wants,_ you’ll take them all _._  “However many you feel is just, Anija,” you say while you’re trying to resist the urge to just wiggle a little. Demand that he get it started already.  

“Very well.” 

Hanzo brings his open palm down hard on your ass. The sting is already delicious, and so satisfying. Oh, that is  _it_ , that is exactly what you needed today. The next one, causes your mouth to drop open. The vicious slaps echoing off of the bathroom walls, absolute music to your ears. There’s no time in between each spank, Hanzo’s hand barely pulling away before he’s bringing it back to one of your reddening cheeks. 

Your ass is aflame, heat coming off of the abused flesh. Little heart beats in random spots. So many little pins and needles poking you on every little part of your skin. They move up onto your back, slide down into your upper thighs. You hadn’t thought to keep count, you’re sure Hanzo stopped bothering with the numbers a while ago. And now you can’t help but moan and whimper with each new smack. 

Your legs have started to quake. Tears brimming and falling down your cheeks. The last slap is the hardest, a full body shiver running from toes to head. One of your legs lifting up off of the ground as you groan through clenched teeth. Hanzo hums as he runs a couple of fingers along the wetness that’s accumulated on the crotch of your underwear. “This is supposed to be a punishment.”

You try to push back against his fingers but he pulls them away. Hanzo spins you around, presses your body against the wall and says into your ear, “Only good girls get to come.” He kisses your cheek and starts to walk away. This time you’re  _really_  pouting. 

He looks back at you and smirks, “Stop that; the day is still young.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	13. Hanzo/GenjixSis!Reader/DUB-CON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo/Genji and Sister go out to the club. Drink a lot, have some fun, and make a video.

It’s a rarity, successfully managing to get Hanzo on board with a fun night out at the club. But with the promise of an exclusive VIP area (procured by Genji), where strangers won’t be able to annoy or touch him, he’s on board. Or as he begrudgingly states, “If you insist.” As if having a little fun might kill him. Genji and Hanzo follow at your heels, as you follow a hostess. You’re practically skipping, you’re so pumped to be out and about with  _both_  of your big brothers. 

You’re wearing a dress that could hardly be considered clothes. And even for all of Hanzo’s prudishness, he must admit that you look ravishing. It’s  _so_  short, that every little bounce in your step just barely gives them a glance at your plush cheeks. The straps are thin, the rose gold, crushed velvet is shiny; commands so many looks from all the people you’re passing by. It looks silky and soft. Your brothers can’t wait to get their hands all over it. 

The room that the three of you get led to is about the size of a master bedroom. Has a cheesy looking leather couch. There’s no door to close and lock, just an open doorway and a short hallway that leads to the rest of the club, and it’s hundreds of shitfaced patrons. Plenty of premium alcohol sitting on a glass table; the first thing that Geji goes for. Pours you a drink into what’s essentially an adult sippy cup and hands it to you. Seventy-five percent alcohol, twenty-five percent club soda. 

At first, Hanzo just sits back and watches the two of you grind against each other. Sipping on his own drink, watching you take long sucks from the clear straw protruding out of the cup. His little brother’s hands taking greedy gropes and caresses, all along that velvet that he too should be getting his hands on. As Hanzo starts to feel a buzz, the buzz starts to drown out his stubbornness against just… letting loose a little. When he finally stands up, Genji welcomes him into the fray with a smug grin and your front (as he has your back). 

Hanzo takes it, presses himself against you, and snakes his hands over your hips. Wastes no time cupping your ass, slipping his knee between your legs. No wonder Genji likes doing this so much, this kind of environment is spellbinding, like slipping into a different universe. You wrap your arms around his waist, grind against his thigh. Suck up the last bits of your drink, and then just  _throw_  it off to the side.

You cup his face and kiss him recklessly, sloppily. Genji’s hand grazing over his stomach, latching onto his hip. Using his leverage to press the three of you even closer together. His hands sandwiched between your ass and his brother’s crotch; he’s hard, of  _course_ he is. Hanzo rolls his eyes at his own automatic judgmental thought pattern, as he too, has got a hard-on. 

Hanzo looks down to see your dress hiked up enough for him to see the black lacey thong you’re adorning. The contrast of it up against the pale pink of your dress is enticing. Making him feel warmer than the club, or the alcohol as already made him. Genji has already dived into one side of your neck, so Hanzo dives into the other one. You’re not supporting your own weight anymore. Your head lolling over to rest against Hanzo’s, as your brothers continue to grind against you. 

For once Hanzo doesn’t overthink what he doing; he just reaches down and frees his cock. Drapes your leg over the crook of his arm, tugs that lace to the side and just slips into you. More like  _shoves_ , evidenced by the loud grunt in both his and Genji’s ear. Loud enough to get Genji’s attention, “Whoa, whoa… just pause for a moment.” 

Hanzo is  _not_  pausing; whatever Genji is doing, he better work it out. As Anija is thrusting up into you, your arms go from his waist to around his neck. Letting Hanzo do all of the work, becoming nothing short of a ragdoll. Genji’s quickly pulled out his phone, turned it to the side (cause he’s not a complete tool), and started filming. Hanzo tugs your skirt up the rest of the way so Genji has nothing blocking his angles or shots. 

Hanzo actually praises him, “Good thinking, Brother.” 

Genji winks as a form of a ‘thank you’. Making sure to get him and Hanzo all the shots that are going to give them hard cocks, and good solo sessions at later dates. Hanzo pumps himself into you a couple of more times before he comes. Holding you flush to his hips as he grinds and rolls, before handing you over to Genji, as Genji hands him the phone. 

Genji does the exact same thing with you just in from the back. Leg over his one arm, other arm wrapped around your waist, supporting you. Those thin, fragile straps fall down your shoulders from the momentum. One of your breasts becoming exposed, bouncing out from behind the thinly veiled fabric. Hanzo has to remember that he’s the cameraman now, so he has to watch through the phone and not directly at you to make sure he’s filming right.   

Hanzo gets closer, and zooms in on the glisten that trails down your leg. Practically sparkles with the lighting of the club. Genji’s cock shines with the same sheen with the brief moments that he’s pumping out of you. You come a little more to life when you finally notice the camera. You bite your lip and grin, reach down and touch yourself. Massage yourself into an orgasm, your eyes rolling slightly into the back of your head.

Look right into the camera and demand, “You guys better not hog that.”

Genji pulls out before he’s finished spurting lines of come. A couple ropes of pearls falling to the floor. Come dripping out from within you, an absolute mess. A  _great_  shot.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	14. Vampire!HanzoxSis!Reader/DUB-CON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You haven't seen your brother in nearly a decade. One night he shows up in your bed and there's something different about him.

Your hands shake as you lift them to cup his face, it’s been so very long since you’ve seen your big brother, or any of your family for that matter. And here Hanzo is looking much, much different than the last time you saw him. Older, naturally, what with the passage of time. It’s the paleness, the ruby lining around his dark brown irises. How  _cold_  he is with his cheek pressed up against your inner thigh. It’s Anija: the living furnace, cold as ice, that has you shaking. 

“What happened to you, Brother?”

He seems so much cockier than you remember him being. Hanzo’s lips curling up into a sinister smile, “Are you afraid, Aneki?” He keeps his eyes homed in on your face, as you subtly nod up and down. Ghosting your fingertips across the wings of his hair, as he takes a deep whiff of your skin. 

Hanzo is well aware you’re afraid, painfully aware. The rapid thwumps of your heartbeat sending the blood racing through your veins. He can smell the adrenaline, the salt in the tears that brim your waterline; the musk of the tender space between your legs. Oh, how he as missed you. 

“H-Hanzo?” Your lip trembles, chest heaving with your impending panic attack, “wh- where have you been? I lo–” 

“Shhh…” the sound is like a spell. Wafting through your brain leaving behind fuzz too thick for you to be able to think about anything worth panicking over. Hanzo does not want to discuss the past right now, you’ll both have all of the time of the universe for catching up. “Take my deepest apologies– for leaving you all alone, Aneki.”  

He moves further up your thigh. Rubbing his face, grazing his lips all along your sensitive skin. “I know how much you despise being alone,” he presses his lips to your skin, for one long kiss, “you will never be alone again. I assure you.”

The sweetest of honied words; lulling you into a false sense of security. A whole other realm, where a naked man crawling into your bed, unwarranted, in the middle of the night is no cause for screaming. Hanzo doesn’t let you look upon the fangs that slowly protrude out from his gums. Razor sharp, and lethal. Doesn't allow you any grace period to brace yourself. 

Simply sinks his fangs into you at a cruel, slow pace. The cry from your lips is barely muffled by his influence. The slide of pointy razors into your skin is sickeningly sweet. Feels so good, after feeling so little, for so many years. Nobody has ever been anywhere near good enough to elicit any real emotion; not after you had your brothers.  

Hanzo growls, deep and animalistic, as he sucks from the wound. His grip around your thigh becoming dangerously tight. Squeezing the muscle, threatening to snap bone. He’s grossly, inhumanly, strong and you still can’t find it within yourself to be worried about it. Hanzo tears himself away from you, lest he ends up taking it all from you right this moment. Warranting another meek cry of pain from you.    

Brother sighs as he moves up your body. Placing a hand just underneath your rib cage, pushing you back against the bed. Blood glistening on his lips, a bit soaked into the dark tufts of his beard. “You taste like an addiction,” he purrs as his hands slip under your shirt.  _Ice,_ shooting through your torso into your spine, causing you to writhe. 

In the dim lighting of the room, you swear for just a flash of a moment that your father is tugging your shirt up and over your head. When had Hanzo grown up to look so much like him? When had your brother turned into a monster? You’d ask, comment, but you can’t remember how to speak. Every little thing Hanzo does is slow, calculated. Confident and in complete control as he stares you right in your doe eyes. He sucks on his bottom lip, glides his tongue across his red-stained fangs. Allowing you to really look at what he’s become.   

Even his lips pressed against your own is slow, but still, manages to be rough. Finally, the taste of your own copper is enough to make the tears fall. Clears the fog, allows for the heavy gravity of your situation to plummet like a rock into your stomach. You sob against his mouth, “Hanzo…” 

Another, “Shhh…” This time directly from his mouth to your ear. Feeling like unadulterated euphoria. Your head spins, vision shaking, your body warming up, and melting into the bed. You can’t remember what you were originally going to say, instead, a sincere but milked, “I missed you so much, Anija,” makes its way into his own ear.

He reaches down and rips the underwear from your body. “Not nearly as much as I have missed you.” Presses the spongy head of his cock to your entrance and settles in, inch by inch. The gradual stretch, the pressure, instantly relieves the itch you’ve had for years. Nobody is quite as satisfying as your own flesh and blood.  

With every roll of his hips, you lose a little more of your lucidity. The crimson in his eyes bright and menacing so close to your face. Hanzo cups your chin and cranes your neck, so he can sink his teeth into a throbbing vein. Hot, thick blood rolls down your neck, soaks into the sheets. Too far gone to feel the sting that time, too exhausted for your mind to register any more pain. 

He rocks into you quicker now. Holds your wrists down to the bed. Swallows the mouth full he has of you, and lets the runoff drip from his chin onto your face. Hanzo’s face blurrs, your vision darkens. Closing in on you quickly. It’s now that you realize he’s been killing you; you’re dying. Hanzo senses the new bout of adrenaline, the fresh fear. “I’m only taking your life– so I can provide you with a new one.” 

Anija kisses you again, still wet and warm with your own blood. Slams his hips into you in several quick successions, before he stills, coming inside of your tired body. You keep fighting the urge to just pass out, to give in to the heavy fatigue. Clinging as hard as you can to Hanzo’s biceps as he strokes your cheeks. Another sob quakes out from your chest, another attempt to try and say something in protest. One last, “Shhh…” against your cheekbone… your eyes lids drop instantly, like heavy bricks, and you’re gone.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	15. HanzoxSis!Reader/Kitten Play

Sitting poised on your vanity bench you glide fingers against your bare neck. It feels so  _wrong_ for a owned kittento be uncollared. Even though your Master has assured you he’ll be back swiftly with your new one it couldn’t be fast enough; this just doesn’t feel right. Being a domestic kitty through and through, you make sure that your tail is positioned just as Master likes it. Draped over your upper thigh, nervously petting the plush fur as you wait.

Finally, your Master walks back into the room carrying a medium sized, square shaped jewelry box. Hanzo pets your hair, grazing his thumb against the fine fur of one of your ears. You hum and lean into it, so pleased to be pet by your Master. “Are you ready for your new collar, Kitten?” 

“Oh, yes, Master,” you practically sing, already presenting your neck to your big brother. So eager to be locked back in. 

Hanzo opens up the box and carefully removes a platinum, thin, collar. With a heart-shaped padlock. Your heart soars at the sight of it, what an upgrade from your leather one! It’s elegant. It’s simple. It’s beautiful! It will match all of your outfits! He shows it to you first before fastening it around your neck. The band adorning little engravings of dragons and cherry blossoms. Your heart soars so much you forget yourself for a moment, “Brother! It’s perfect!” 

You grimace and check his facial expression. He seems amused vs angry, you’re just too adorable for even him to be irritated with. You quickly correct yourself, “I mean– thank you, Master. I love it.”

“You are very welcome, Kitten,” he says as he locks the collar into place. Then puts the key onto a long chain and throws it around his own neck. Tucks it away, secret and safe underneath his yukata. 

Ah, that is much better. You already feel right at home in your new collar. Even with its new weight and new less giving material. This is exactly as you’re supposed to be. Owned and with the symbolism that lets everybody know it.  

“Perfect,” Hanzo states as he stands back, snaps his fingers, and points to the floor, “now get down.”

You listen immediately; like the obedient, trained pet that you are. Throwing your tail back behind you, you gingerly fall to your knees, and sit back on your thighs. Placing your hands in your lap you wait patiently for more instructions. “Would you like to play, Kitten?” 

You hum and wiggle your bottom around like a kitty cat winding up, “Yes, Master.” Hanzo walks up to you, moving the cloth of his yukata to the side. He’s not hard yet, but you’re delighted to work his cock from start to finish. So you lean forward with your hands still placed in your lap and start licking. Running your tongue from the swell of his balls, all the way up over the shaft, and to the very tip. 

There you suckle and lap at his slit, take his cock into your mouth, and mewl as it starts to grow. You only let it plop back out of your mouth when it’s fully engorged, and tickling the back of your throat. As you nuzzle your cheek along his length, Hanzo pets your head, and praises, “You are an exceptional, pet, Aneki.”

“Thank you, Master.”

You bring one of your hands up from your lap to cup his balls and squeeze ever-so-slightly. Taking the head back into your mouth, you swirl your tongue around. Slowly go all the way down to the base, and suck,  _hard_. Hard enough to just barely pull the come from his balls. Hanzo’s hand comes to your head, but not to push or force, just to give more approving pets. 

You bob your head back and forth. Pulling off to lick and lap some more. Taking every bit of pre-come that shows up, and moaning at the taste of it. When you take both of his balls into your mouth, he’s in heaven. And you can tell because his breathing suddenly hitches, the hand on your head grips the base of your ponytail on pulls.  

The sound of your Master whimpering as you let them fall out of your mouth is enough to make you glow with pride. Quickly turning his whimper into a moan when you take him entirely back into your mouth. A few more minutes of swift bobbing, and a couple of hard and long sucks later he’s coming in your mouth. You open up wide before swallowing. Showing Master the cream that he’s given you. 

“Very good girl, now drink your milk.”

You snap your mouth shut and swallow hard. An audible gulp, followed by two audible sighs. A pleased Master and a pleased pet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	16. HanzoxGenji/SojiroxSis!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate setting where Genji and Hanzo get a sexual tension icebreaker from Papa and baby Sis.

“Am I ever allowed to have one moment of peace without you insisting on infringing upon it?”

Genji chuckles, “That’s a lot of words for, ‘Leave me the fuck alone,’” nearly earns a busted nose when Hanzo stops abruptly and spins around to face him. Giving him a look that needs no words, and says exactly that.  

“You can’t call dibs on the whole onsen, I’ll be quiet.” 

Hanzo rolls his eyes, “I doubt it.” 

Genji stands back and watches while Hanzo meticulously gets undressed. Folds his clothes neatly, sits down on a wooden stool and washes his body off. Genji’s starting to think maybe this was a bad idea, he can already feel the little tickle and pull in his dick. But his neediness to just  _be_  around his Anija wins over the risk of popping a boner around him– because of him. He initially had tried to find and bother you first, but it seems you’re elusive tonight. 

He takes in a deep breath through his nose, devoid’s himself of his own clothes and takes a seat next to Hanzo. Washes himself off, but quicker, trying to avoid looking at how the water and suds roll off of Hanzo’s creamy muscular thighs. The way his skin gives and pulls with all of his gentle swirls of his hands on his own body– Genji shakes his head, trying to knock the thoughts rights out of his ears. 

Genji’s the first to get up and towel off, peak his head around the corner just to get a look at the onsen, and to distract himself. And boy, does he get one hell of a distraction. A distraction that forces all fragments of self-control out of his body. Brings tears of shock to his eyes, sends a rush of blood straight into his cock. He’s so floored, his knees nearly buckle, causing him to cling onto the banister for support. 

He’s finally found his little sister. There you are; hair damp, skin dewy and dripping with condensation. Naked, naturally, but that’s not what is so… Appalling? Disgusting? Blasphemous? No, even if those things are true, Genji can’t get himself to believe them when his dick is so painfully hard that it’s throbbing between his legs. An erection that is way beyond his own mental control, there’s not a thing he can do about it. Well, there is  _something_  he can do about it…

You’re straddling a man’s hips– his father’s hips,  _your_  father’s hips. Leaning forward, plush lips agape to kiss him and slip your tongue into his mouth. Your hips rolling, creating little waves in the crystal clear water of the onsen. Just how long has  _this_ been going on? Genji gulps loudly, finally pulling himself out of his head long enough to blink. Works on getting the moisture back into his mouth, as a couple of tears roll down his cheeks. 

What the hell is he supposed to do now? He looks to Hanzo, but Hanzo is no longer seated on the stool. He actually doesn't see him anywhere. That’s because Hanzo had stood up shortly after Genji had. Instead of asking what the look of horror was about, he decided to investigate for himself. Has been standing behind Genji this whole time, going through relatively the same stages of shock as him. 

Genji senses Hanzo’s presence and looks back at him, “Did you know about this?” 

“No,” he breathes out. He’s sporting an erection that looks more ruddy and swollen than his own, says, “we should leave, yes?”  

“Should? Yeah, probably.” Genji turns back to focus his eyes in on the show. He’s not leaving. This is one twisted scene, but he can’t help how hot it’s making him feel. In truth, it’s the twisted nature that’s inflicting the maddening heat upon him. Hanzo’s not the only sibling he’s been having eyes for, and his father certainly is easy on the eyes too. Much like the silver foxe’s he’s always chasing in his free time. 

Soft, little moans and grunts echo through the onsen as you start to bounce up and down in Sojiro’s lap. Water sprays, and splashes. Your hands go from his face to the dark stone just behind his back. Genji reaches behind himself and offers his brother an open palm, “Take it or don’t.” 

Hanzo takes it, and so much faster than Genji had expected him to. He had an inkling, that with the leaking hard-on he has, Hanzo would end up taking him up on the offer, instead of opting to leave. Or getting offended and angry about it. But he had at least expected him to have some conflict… to think on it. He didn’t. 

Hanzo leans into his hand, breathing hot and heavy and his shoulder. Despite the temperature it still raises goosebumps all along the nape of his neck, his arms; sends shivers through his spine. Genji must have slipped into a wet dream. There’s no way he has his brother’s cock in his fist, no way he’s stroking it, pulling the quietest whimpers from Hanzo’s chest. 

Genji continues to watch the peep show you and his father aren’t meaning to put on for them. Watches as Sojiro lifts you up, spins you around and bends you over the edge of the onsen. You lay your chest flat, but arch your back for him. Your face scrunching up in ecstasy as your father enters you from behind. Sojiro grazes his fingertips down your spine, snakes his hand into your hair. Slowly pulls back, and cranes your neck enough for you to be able to look at him as he thrusts into you. 

Genji can’t help but imagine himself there in your place first. Then his father’s place, with you there… then Hanzo… Speaking of Hanzo, he’s finally decided to start returning the favor. Leaning some of his weight against his back as he grips the base of Genji’s cock and strokes. Genji instantaneously feeling like he’s about to explode, just bust, and cry out. Giving them both away. 

Then your voice breaks the relative silence, whining, “Papa– h-harder…” And that’s it, for the both of them. Genji comes and so does Hanzo. Thick hot ropes hit his back. While his own fall, what he believes to be obscenely loud, onto the floor. Sojiro gives you what you’ve mewled for, slamming his hips into your own. Quick and fast, harsh snaps giving off lewd, wet skin to skin slaps.  

Hanzo is still leaning against Genji’s back, shaking. Genji offers him a soothing hand on his thigh, and he doesn’t reject it. They both seem to be of the same mindset: they won’t be leaving before the show is over. Sojiro’s grip on your hair looks painful, but you seem to really enjoy it. Your teeth bared, clenched together, but there’s a subtle smile at the corners of your lips. 

“Oh– Papa!” You exclaim as you pull your hands into a fist, tuck them under your body as you come. One of your legs lifts up out of the water and drops back down as you get through it. Your moans tapering off into the most musical sobs Genji’s ever heard.  

Sojiro wasn’t nearly done with you, keeps slamming into you. Lets go of your hair so he can grip both of your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. It looks so damn soft, so fragile in his grasp. Instead of rutting into you, he pulls you back onto him again and again. Manipulating your body like you’re made of air, just a fuckable little doll incapable of moving on your own. 

It’s when you come  _again_ , that his father finally stills, falls forward with your hips still in his hands. Buries his face into the midsection of your back and groans. Then peals you up of off the stone, and back into the water with him. Laying you against his back as he whispers praises into your ear. Plants soft little kisses and suckles along your shoulder. Genji’s never seen his father be so  _affectionate._  

Hanzo is hard again, so is Genji. Shifting uncomfortably against his back. His voice sounds raspy as if he’s just caught a cold, “We should leave now.”

Genji agrees, he’s seen enough. Turns around carefully, looks down at Hanzo’s cock as to make his intentions perfectly clear, “I’m… going to go to bed, join me or don’t.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	17. GenjixTrans!Brother

“Those pants actually do look good,” Genji huffs as your mouth glides up and down his cock. Your hands are the perfect mixture of callused and soft. The hold you have is even more perfect, light with a pulsating grip. Genji can’t decide which view is better; the downward one or the upward view of you kneeled between his legs in the mirror.  

Genji feels the tug and pull in his balls, he’s almost ready to burst, but he doesn’t want to let it go in your mouth. “Brother, that’s enough, stop.” 

You release his dick abruptly. Pulling away with strings of saliva, that break and fall against your chin, and neck. Genji rubs the spittle in with both of his hands as he gets down onto the floor with you. Kisses you, singing praises, “good boy, you’re the sweetest little cock sucker,” before spinning you around, pushing you forward down onto the floor. 

Genji runs his hands over the jeans, a random pair he had picked out as an excuse to his brother into the changing room. Hanzo making an off-handed comment along the way, “It is necessary for you to join him?”  _Ha_ , envious. 

Genji peals your jeans and underwear down, marvels at the glistening sheen over your spongy hole and your fat, ruddy little cock. Your face is buried between your arms, the wide expanse of your back heaving in anticipation. “Brother, look at yourself while I fuck you.” 

You lift up your head just enough to be able to get a view of your Anija, as he leans forward and pushes himself into you in one swift, easy motion. Your velvet immediately squeezing down around him, several flutters that nearly makes Genji come right on the spot. Your eyes roll as he thrusts, deep and long. Taking his time burying his dick with each one.  

He pushes your shirt down your torso, as he leans forward and grips your waist. Now Genji’s thrusts become rough and loud. Skin slapping against skin, accompanied by your abundance of slick arousal. You grunt as you struggle to keep your face up and visible for the mirror like your brother had demanded. But the task is becoming harder, harder by the moment. 

“Ah– fuck, Genji, Genji– can I touch myself?” 

“Make yourself come, give me your orgasm, Brother.”

It’s a struggle to get up onto an elbow, with Genji’s cock hitting the very edges of your limit every, single, time. But you get there, reach between your legs, and pinch your swollen little dick. Then stroke and tug, fervently. Genji homes his focus in on your face in the mirror. Watching as it scrunches up more with every snap of his hips, and every motion of your arm.   

Then your fist closes, knuckles turning white. And your walls clamp down around him, a hot pulsating vice grip. “That’s it– good boy, give it to me, its mine.”

You groan deep down in your chest, letting out the sound through clenched teeth. Finally losing the will to stay upright, your forehead drops back down to the ground; whimpering and shaking. Genji gives you a couple more rough thrusts before coming to his own end. Spilling himself inside of you. Your walls still clenching, as his cock twitches out all he’s got to give you. 

Genji carefully pulls out, bringing a line of milky white with him. Running two fingers along the trail he states, “I want you to keep this ‘til we get home.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “Do I have much of a choice, Anija?” 

Genji redresses you then exits the changing room ahead of you. Sojiro is leaning against the wall just outside of the door. Seems somewhat amused, and slightly annoyed. Mostly amused. Maybe a little hard, as he’d been listening in on the entire tryst. “That is a lot of time for one pair of pants, my sons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	18. SojiroxSis!Reader/Virgin Kink

Sojiro can’t get enough of his pure and perfect little girl. So sweet, so soft, and untouched. A glowing young woman, the envy of the leaders of rival clans. They’ve given him so many offers. Fully drafted dissertations and novels worth of negotiations just to try and bargain the right to be betrothed to you. To have the right to take away your virgin flower. Have you birth their children, and carry on their line. It’ll never happen. 

No matter how they beg, or how angry they become when he declines, and fails to give them a reason that they can be satisfied with, he’ll never make a deal. You belong to him; to the family. Nobody is worthy enough to receive the gift of a Shimada. Especially not this one. 

The thought of you being so innocent and precious resides so strongly with him in his core; that he won’t even allow himself to take it. So why would he  _ever_  let someone else have it? Over his dead body.

Instead, finds himself giving in to moments of weakness… like right now, where he’s got you pressed up against a wall, your skirt hiked up just enough for him to have a milky bit of thigh to grind against. You’ve asked him– practically begged him to sink himself into you. “Are you not worthy, Papa?” He is; but not even your mewls, not even his daughter gift wrapping it for him in the prettiest underwear, can break his fixation.  

Sojiro slowly glides his hot, needy cock against your well-lotioned skin. His wet, leaking tip leaving listening trails. You keep your hands to yourself, one pressed against the wall, the other draped across your tummy. Eyes closed, while musical little hums resonate behind closed lips. Sojiro wonders about what you must be thinking– imagining. 

Are you fantasizing about him bending you over? Pealing that pretty underwear down your thighs; slowly pressing his head to your entrance; sheathing himself, inch by inch, taking note of every little whimper and squirm that you do? How relieving it would feel to have your tight, hot, virgin space filled, and broken in by your Papa?

Sojiro growls, having worked himself into a heated madness. So very close, to coming to his end. He spins you around, and you instinctively close your legs tightly together for him. Sojiro wedges himself between the pillowy parts of your thighs, the softest portions, just underneath your crotch. Ruts in between them, with fervent quick snaps.  

He slips back into his mind where he’s laying you down on a bed with stark white sheets. Opening up your legs, marveling at how you look like a goddess in his bed. So very perfect. He’s entering you again, a soft sigh bellowing against his ear. Your walls hugging him, just the tip this time, like a vice grip. 

His hands plant onto the wall on either side of you. His cock briefly grazing the lace of your underwear, feeling a moistness. Sojiro can’t tell if he’s simply leaking that much, or if you’re truly that wet. Whether the latter is true or not, the mere thought is enough to make him come. Thick, messy ropes onto the inside of the front your skirt, that you had forgotten to hold up. “Forgotten” as if you won’t be admiring the sight of it later.    

You are, in fact, Papa’s pure daughter. But only in the physical sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	19. Hanzo/Genji/SojiroxSis!Reader/Cuckolding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of dom!little Sister

It’s all very cute. The way you managed to convince your father, the Master of the Shimada clan, to let you tie him up. It had started with a brave nip. A really harsh bite of his lip as he gave you a ‘hello’ kiss in front of your brothers. This actually managed to shock him; you  _never_ bite. Never quit the instigator of the rougher parts of lovemaking.  

He whispered. “I believe you made me bleed, Musume.” 

But you didn’t care, didn’t waver as you stared him down with a mischievous grin. So adorable in the way that a fairy is before they give you the ‘gift’ of food and trap you in nether realm, forever. Sojiro looked to his sons for answers, as you dragged your nails across the stomach of his shirt. Of course, they were of no help. 

Genji shrugged. “We got dragged here.” While Hanzo merely smirked and kept watching you, as you rolled out Sojrio’s office chair from behind his desk. 

You positioned it behind him so you could ‘push’ him back into it. Sojiro hadn’t said a single word during all of this. Just kept looking at you with an intrigued gaze, while he was starting to simmer. Wondered about,  _what_  has gotten into you. You held out your hand to your side, a silent demand for your brothers to place their ribbons into your open palm. Looking not like a Princess, but a Queen ordering her subordinates around.  

You wrapped the ribbons around each of his wrists, several times over. Looked him in the eye with each wrap and pull. By the time you were done, he found himself to be rather impressed. The bindings you had given him are tight. It might actually take him a moment or two to get out of them. 

Then you straddled him. Kissed him roughly. Cupping his face, you dug your nails into his sideburns. Bit him some more. Gave him a raging, swollen cock, and then left him to crawl onto your knees, and present yourself to your brothers. Peeled your underwear down to your ankles. Dropped down to your knees and spread them. Arched your back and looked back at your brothers to ask. “So who is going to fill me up?” 

Hanzo took up the helm, and now you’re getting fucked on the floor of his office by his eldest. You keep his gaze as your mouth drops open. The harsher Hanzo’s thrusts become, the more your hair comes loose from your ponytail and falls into your face. Sojiro squirms in his seat, his cock aching so much it’s gained it’s very own heartbeat. You throw your own weight back into your brother. Cheeks becoming two bright red apples, with each new bit of effort you put into it.  

Hanzo’s chest is heaving. Mouth agape, as he collapses down on top of you. Reaches around and under your thigh to get his fingers on your nub. Keeps his face buried into the back of your neck, while he gives you erratic thrusts and rudely rubs your clit. You kept up your authoritative composure up ‘til now. Sojiro watches with great pleasure, as all that new found cockiness melts off of your body as your brother makes you come. 

One of your legs buckles out from under you. Your forehead dropping down to the floor, cursing and chanting Hanzo’s name. When it would seem it’s over you groan, and try to pry his hand away from your mound, but Hanzo holds fast. Keeps pumping, massaging, and rolling ‘til he’s done spilling inside of you. By the time he’s done you’re acutely sensitive and ready for Genji. 

You give Hanzo a look “jerk,” you say as you regain your composure. Only for Genji to take it away, by swiftly burying his face in between your legs. You do manage to quip before giving up and slumping right back down to the floor. “Don’t you let a single bit of it go to waste, Anija.” 

Genji jerks his cock while he slips his tongue between your folds. Laps up all of Hanzo’s seed, humming and moaning with every lick. Teases the tip of his tongue against your clit. Quick little flicks that cause your body to jolt with each one. Genji places one hand on the small of your back so he can angle you downwards and let gravity do the work for him. Genji manages to do as he’s told, save for the little bit of glisten that drops out of his mouth as he pulls away. 

It rolls down his chin and catches your eye immediately. Sojiro notices it too, but his focus homes in on the mess of shine that’s all over his chin and lips. You nearly look offended, as you reach for him and bring his face down to meet yours. 

“Now I know I told you not to be wasteful,” you say as you go to lick it off of his chin. Shove your tongue into his mouth; intent on misleading him. Relaxing him into the impromptu make-out session, before you clamp down on his lower lip and scold him through clenched teeth. “Bad brother.”    

Genji curses then comes from the sudden pain. Spilling up and all over his own arm and fist. You stand up looking a little bit like a newly born doe, but also so very proud of yourself. You smooth out your skirt and fix your hair. Waltz over to Sojiro and kiss him, allowing him to taste hints of everything he just watched happen. Your fingers graze over his crotch. Teasing with light taps and flutters.  Sojiro is beyond simmering, so boiling hot that the mere touch makes him whimper, almost makes him beg and say “Please.” 

Then you exhale along his cheekbone as you make your way to his ear. Blow against his earlobe and state. “I have to go, Papa. I’m late for my lessons.” 

Sojiro growls, deep and long as you cheekily walk away from him. “You had better be prepared for me when I get out of these, Musume.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	20. Hanzo/GenjixSis!Reader/NON-CON/Somno

It’s been a good night for Hanzo and Genji. Some good old-fashioned sibling bonding over bottle, after bottle, of sake. Well, minus the heavy petting, lewd amount of tongue, and the hands that jerked each other off in their pants; it’s been old-fashioned. While it has been… entertaining and it is now closer to morning than midnight, they’re both not quite ready to go to bed. They would both like to pay their dear little sister a visit; the party pooper of the evening.  

“Miss ‘I’m tired’,” Genji states as they both make their way down the hall towards your room. “How lame.” 

Hanzo chuckles. “Yes, how lame of her to miss out on the rare moments when you actually managed to be humorous. They only come around every so often… yes, it’s a shame.“

Genji looks back at him with the barest annoyance and a smirk. Lifting up his arm to give him the middle finger. “You’re rambling, asshole.” Then he sighs heavily and abruptly removes his shirt. Tosses it down and leaves it bunched up in the middle of the hall. “Why’s it so hot– isn’t it supposed to be fall?” 

Hanzo had devoided himself of his shirt hours ago. Couldn’t stand to feel the cling of the fabric against his skin. It truly is far too hot for this time of year. Slipping into your room, and seeing you, just leads to more proof of that fact. There you are all sprawled out on the bed. The sheets so thin, so sheer; that they lay into every little curve and crevasse of your body. Accentuating your cheeks, and the slutty widespread of your legs. 

Genji falls against the wall as if he’s just been floored. “Why she gotta sleep like that?” Grips his own cock and squeezes, making his point perfectly clear. He had walked in here with a still having an itch that only his sister could satisfy, and now he really needs to scratch.   

Before Hanzo has even had enough time to really process just how… whorish you look, he’s already approached the bed. His needy cock, and fuzzy brain leading the helm. He takes the sheet and swiftly throws it off of your body. The silky piece of fabric falling gently down onto the other side of the bed in a graceful wave. Hanzo whines deep in his chest at the sight of your legs being spread so wide, that your underwear is already perfectly askew. 

Presenting your perfect, plush little cunt to him. There for his use, there to sink his wet dick into. He’s already dropping his pants to the floor, mind spinning with just how much he needs to feel how tight you are. Here, in the now, while you’re still softly snoring. So tuckered out from a long day of physical training. You’re dead to the world, oblivious to the two miss-behaving boys in your room.  

Waking you up doesn’t cross either of there minds, Hanzo wants inside of you, and he wants it now. After all, you did say you need your rest. Hanzo straddles your legs, grips the sheets on either side of your hips, and lets his cock find your entrance with a few rolls of his hips. Presses just the tip in with a sharp hiss through his teeth. Thick juicy lips, and a vice tight entrance, hugging obscenely tight. “Oh–  _Aneke_.” Such a soft declaration, in an awfully quiet room. Becoming subtly noisier, as Genji’s hand strokes his own needy dick in his pants.  

Anija sinks deeper and deeper into your heat with every gentle thrust. PIcking up momentum and more fever the further he goes. Genji tugs his pants down to around his knees, crawls onto the bed just next to your head. Gingerly pushes the stuck hair away from your forehead. Stroking his cock and petting your head. Stroking and petting, stroking and petting. His mouth inching open per several tries to just get some words out. It’s a few shaky breaths before Genji can finally voice what he’s been trying to say. A hushed, “Fuck– she’s so cute.”

Hanzo huffs. “Is that all?”

A strangled moan comes out from between your slack lips as you start to squirm underneath him. Hanzo eases up and you fall back into a quiet snore. His stomach muscles seizing up at the sound of it. He leans forward and kisses between your shoulder blades, tasting a savory bit of salt. “Cute little slut, stay asleep for us,” he whispers as he steadily rolls his hips against your ass. 

You’re so groggy, heavy. Too deep in sleep to move yet. The muscles in your body carrying all the heavyweight from all the strenuous activity of the day. There’s a groan, and then another one. Perhaps it’s in your dream, then again maybe it’s not. You slip between consciousness and the dream, gradually coming to realize that some of the moans are coming from your own mouth. And not at all in your head. While the others are familiar, but not quite enough to register their faces and names yet. 

You’re waking up so much hotter than you were when you fell asleep. A mass of heat at your back, and a rod of it in your pussy. An intense pressure hitting you deep inside, over and over again. Suddenly you’re very awake, every bit of conscious. Brief panic quickly replaced by the realization that it’s just big brother fucking you. You recognize his scent, his body. The tickle of his hair against your back. 

A slight bit of annoyance twists in your chest, replaced by a cheekiness. The sweet stench of alcohol, and the musk of two big bodies enveloping your senses. Swallowing down your urge to open your eyes, you make the quick decision to keep them closed. Feign to still be fast, fast asleep. 

Genji’s weight shifts, his hand pressing your face down into the bed briefly.  _‘Wreckless brother’_  you think to yourself; assuming that they’re trying not to wake you. Then again they both must be tipsy, a little stupid from lust, and their pliant little fuck toy. “She really was tired, huh?” His voice accompanied by wet slicking, and fevered breathing.  

You feel the restraint in Hanzo’s snaps and thrusts. The amount of willpower it’s taking to not to fuck you fast and hard. It’s also a challenge for you to try and remain relaxed. With Hanzo burying his cock so long and deep, it presses against your cervix; creating a nearly unbearable amount of pressure. A mewl escaping from all the buildup coming to fruition. Your slack hands threaten to give you away. Almost instinctively taking fist full’s of the sheets underneath you. 

Of course, it’s always Genji with the commentary. “Brother, you think she’s dreaming about us?” Ah, is that what your noises are to him? A  _dream_?

Hanzo answers with a huff and a roll that seats his cock all the way into the hilt. More pressure and a bit of a sharp sting, warranting another whine that is beyond your control. Your aching from so much soreness and sensitivity. Your clit pulsating, and swollen. Leads you to wonder just how long he’s been using your resistant walls. When you start to come, you’re sure that you’re going to give your lucidness away.

Hanzo comes to an abrupt still. His cock swells and twitches. Spilling his load deep inside of you. A strangled moan flowing from both of your mouths as you share an orgasm. Hanzo rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, breathing heavily. Hot bellows, and the barest graze of his lips.  

“She came,” Hanzo says with an air of disbelief, but still, unaware. 

Your too warm to feel any of the heat from his seed. But you can still feel the wetness leaking from your sore cunt. Spilling over your folds as Hanzo eases himself out. 

Genji’s fingers dig into your hair, his weight shifting onto your head once again. Another close moment where you almost yelp from the surprise of Genji coming on your face. Liquid ropes of heat lands on your face. Hits the sheets beyond your head sounding like heavy drops of rain.  

“Hmpf. Couldn’t hold back, huh?” Hanzo says. 

A dollop rolls down your cheek. Slides between your lips. Settles on the very tip of your tongue. A persistent taste of salt that you can’t safely do anything about ‘til they leave. A bit of Genji’s come rolls dangerously close to your eye but gets wiped away by his thumb. “If only one of us kept our damn shirt on,” Genji says, still hushed; he sounds exhausted.  

Hanzo shifts to the side and grabs the sheet to drape it back over your body. “Just leave it– let her find it in the morning…” the bed groans and lifts with the absence of his weight as he gets off, “–so that she knows she didn’t completely miss out on the fun.” 

You dare to let your eyes open ever-so-slightly. Just enough to get a glimpse of them redressing themselves. Genji using Hanzo as leverage to keep himself from falling over. Hanzo swatting his hand away so that he nearly falls flat on his face. “Hey, asshole I thought we were bonding,” Genji states. “Help your bro out.” 

“You have called me that a total of ten times tonight,” Hanzo says as he starts to walk towards your door. 

“I think that says more about you than it does me.” Genji follows, adjusting his pants, and closing the door after himself. 

You close your eyes again, but only to savor the taste as you lick your lips. Swallow down the salt your brother left for you to find in the morning. Wipe the rest from your face into the cradle of your fingers. Lay your hand down onto the bed and lap it up. Gyrate your hips and moan through the after pangs from simply thinking about what just transpired. 

Would one of them be bold enough to press you about it in the morning? Would you be cheeky enough to do the same? Is it better to feign ignorance? It could be fun to tease– drops hints, and see just how long it takes for them to break. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	21. GenjixSister!Reader/Dark/Yandere/NON-CON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is dark proceed with caution.

_Finally,_  Genji has his Sister where he wants her to be. Exactly as you need to be. Well, not exactly, but you’ll get there. You’re loose, tipsy, and unguarded; dancing amongst strangers to you, but friends to him. Inhibitions already lowering with every little sip of the drink in your hand. It had taken so much charm, so many false promises to get you to even consider the idea of clubbing with him. Especially after the incident. The thing you don’t bring up for what you feel is his own sake. Because you hate to think of your brother that way.

It was a beautiful day. Perfect for a date with his little Sister. He had thought it had gone so well. Genji made you laugh so hard that you doubled over and cried. Wiping away tears from your eyes that are so much like his own. Just… a little softer. A little wider. Carrying much more naiveness than his own.  

He had given you a day free of responsibilities, studies, and worry. He had  _given_  that to you. Made sure every moment was about you, and what you wanted to do. Spoiled you with gifts and food. Genji still believes that the tension he felt was real. He’s a charmer and he knows how to gauge these things. At pro at seducing and getting exactly what he wants.

He kissed you. Just went for it with gusto, because he’s no coward. You recoiled from him. Kept pushing him away no matter how tightly wrapped in his arms you were. Eventually got away from him with a disgusted look on your face and five hurtful words. “What is  _wrong_  with you?!” You stormed away from him, fervently whipping him away from your mouth with the back of your hand.

You looked back at him with a snarl and so much judgment. “I’m your  _sister!_ ” 

He’s well aware. It’s not his fault the perfect girl for him come into his life in the form of his sister. Genji’s not ashamed of it, and you’re just uptight. Unused to the idea. In need of someone to help you open your mind. You simply need to relax a little. For Genji to show you just how good it would be… then you will come around. And here he is holding the drink that will grant you that gift. Just a teaspoon of liquid heaven that will help the walls come down.  

Genji bides his time. Enjoys watching you as you sway, jump and grind between several bodies. The night is young for him but he knows you’ll be wanting to go home soon. A part of the conditions for coming out with him tonight; that he wouldn’t make you stay out all night long. He’ll let you make that choice, you’ll leave the club when you want to. No protests from him.

When you stumble over to his table, giggling, glowing, and happy; Genji’s chest swells with pride.  _He_ did that. That wide stretch of your mouth, the upturns at the corners of your eyes. The sheen of sweat on your chest, and the persistent lift and fall of your breasts. All because of him. All because of his abilities to convince and sell. You would never have had this much fun without him. You need your Anija.

Genji greets you with a soft, knowing smile. You place both of your palms flat down on the table and blow a bit of hair out of your face before speaking. How  _adorable_. “We should go home, yeah?!” You yell over the bumping bass and synths.

“Of course! You’ve been killin’ it out there, sis!” He holds up the shot glass and raises an eyebrow towards it. “One more for the road?!” 

You look to the glass with a hint of hesitation in your eye. But then you huff and shrug your shoulders. “Why the hell not!?” You take it from his hand, down it while he down his own. Perfect.  _Now_  it’s time to go.

* * *

The driver knew not to take the two of you home. Genji didn’t have to state the true destination out loud and risk spooking you. Halfway through the drive to the hotel, your torso started to sway. Your eyes closed as your head fell back against the seat. Pink lips separated from each other in an attempt to obtain breaths from heavy, restricted feeling lungs. 

You snapped back to attention when Genji moved in closer to your side. “Ani– Genji… I feel really– really funny…” you slurred as you leaned into his body, trying to find some comfort. 

His dick grew and strained in his tight jeans. Hot and eager. Primal lust clouded his mind. Almost turned him into a mindless animal right on the spot. Had to resist the urge to split your thighs and plunge his cock into you hard and fast. Instead, he leaned his forehead against your temple. Whispered into your ear, “Tell me about it.”

“I feel,” you said, cutting yourself off. Your hands flowing over your own body, your breath hot against his neck. You couldn’t find the words, could only show him. Pressing your fingers into your bare thighs. Brought them back up catching the hem of your dress. Revealed a teasing amount of panty. 

“Does it feel euphoric? Like a wave?” He licked his lips and planted a long kiss on your temple. “Likes bubbles of heaven under your skin?”

A single word answer came out in a breath. “Yeah.”

Genji had to carry you bridal style into the hotel room. Your equilibrium and ability to walk lost to the drug. You’re curling up on the bed, rubbing your face against the sheets like a kitten. Mewling like one too. He can relate to that, he knows that everything must feel so good right now. Despite how mundane the thing might be. Euphoria flowing through your body, threatening to lull you off into a deep sleep.

Your dress is already hiked up halfway past your ass. Your thin, creamy colored lace underwear pulled taught around your pussy. Lining the pillowy bits that surround your folds. Framing the space that he has been longing to get into. Genji crawls on top of you, eyeing you like a predator. Leaves you as you are for the moment. Kisses your neck, licks the underside of your ear, and tugs the straps of your dress down your body. Exposing your delicate, perfect tits.

It would seem you’ve given in briefly to sleep, but you’re still wiggling and groaning in response to his touches. He turns you over onto your back. Your head lolling, arm falling like a rag doll. So relaxed, so open. Just as you deserve to be. As you should be with your big brother. His dream girl, here underneath him. All for him. 

He takes each of your soft nipples into his mouth. Sucks and tugs on them with his teeth, ‘til they’re erect and pebbled. Alert and even more perky with every little flick of his tongue. His hands rude as they palm at your tits, squeezing and pinching. Pushing them together, nuzzling his face between your cleavage. Suckling on a tender spot ‘til he see’s a large hickey start to flower.  

Then he moves down and down. Removes your underwear, and settles in with his face between your legs. Licks your pussy from entrance to clit. Nice, and long, and slow. When he does it again you start to stir. Legs kicking weakly, hands grasping at the sheets. He looks up to see your eyes flutter open. Your face scrunches up in meek panic and confusion. You try to pull up your dress but your arms are too weak, too made of fuzz to make any difference.    

You frown and your bottom lip quivers. “Genji?” You whine as you try to lift a leg and press the heel of your foot to his shoulder. Trying to push him away to no avail. Hardly doing a thing at all. Genji wraps his arms around your thighs, spreads you open more and holds you fast. He grips the meat of your thighs and says, “Relax, Aneki.”

“Stop it.” Your voice cracks with a sob as you plea. “Please… Genji…” 

He sucks on your folds, prods his tongue inside of your hole. Tasting your slick, marveling at how tight you are. Even with his wet soft extension it still takes persistence to get inside. You’re so full of heat, and you taste divine. He could lap at you like a thirsty dog all night. 

“Just close your eyes again if you need to, Sis.” He kisses your clit, sucks on it and receives a chest shaking from a wail coming out of your mouth.

“Shhh, just let it happen, Sis.” Another long run of his tongue, up and then down. “It feels good. We’re gonna feel good… together.” 

Genji crawls back up your body as your trying once again to pull your dress back on. He gently takes your hands away from the fabric and holds them down on either side of your head. “Don’t cover yourself up, you’re beautiful.” Leans down and eagerly kisses your clavicles, moves up to your jawline. “There’s no need to be ashamed, Aneki.” 

When he kisses your lips, and sob bubbles out into his mouth. Genji quells it with an even deeper kiss. Chasing your tongue with his own. Keeping up with every twist and turn of your head. Flicks his tongue against each of your trembling lips. Nips at the corner of your slack mouth.  

He makes quick work of his shirt. Removes your dress completely. He wants to feel you, every little part. All the soft contours of your body. The way you’ll mold into him, a perfect fit. As he’s removing his pants you place your hand against his stomach. You’re trying to push him away, but it ends up feeling like a tender caress. Your hand sliding down, fingers grazing over his cock.  

Genji takes your hands and wraps your fingers around his shaft. Your hands are so soft, so delicate. His mouth is watering, falling open in anticipation. As he jerks your hand up and down around his cock. His own fist closed around your own. Squeezing down at the tip, pre-come dribbling out. Falling down onto your pristine belly. 

This is everything he’s ever wanted. After years and years of lusting after you. Watching you in private moments when you thought you were in total seclusion. Jerking himself off to your unsuspecting sleeping body. Watching your every move. Taking in every little moment that he gets lucky enough to have with his dream girl. He’s been craving you something fierce, like a hard substance for so, so long. 

Now he gets to feel the warm embrace of your pussy around his cock. He’s had enough of foreplay. Genji lines himself up and pushes inside. He loses his breath for a moment, his eyelids becoming heavy. You squirm and keen underneath him. Soft hands clinging as much as you can onto his forearms. One a little sticky with his seed. 

The last bits of his moral center shut down. All Genji wants now is to fuck and fuck fast. Bury himself to the hilt, over and over. Lays down pressing his chest to your own, and slams his hips down into your cunt. Your slack hands move his forearm to his biceps, clinging tighter and tighter the rougher he is. He loves that. It feels as if your returning some of the passion, so he gives it even more effort. 

Not paying any mind to any of your other reactions. The wails, or the heavy flow of tears that roll down your temples. The whimpering or the continued pleading. You turn him on  _so_  much. The tight constriction of your cunt. The heavy, moist breath on his neck. Nothing else matters, nothing except catching his end. Filling you up and making you his. 

Your nails dig into his biceps and he comes. “Oh! Shit– Aneki you’re– am– amazing.” His cock, aching and twitching inside of you. He’s coming hard, thick and heavy. Seated all the way inside, spurting deep within you. Marking his territory, you’re  _his_  now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


	22. GenjixSister!Reader/Watersports

“Genji–” you whine, dragging out the ‘e’ sound. Stomping your feet, your heels click-clacking against the concrete. “I need to pee.” 

Genji extends his hand, chuckling as he says, “We’re almost home you can make it. I–” he puts a dramatic hand to his chest. “I believe in you.” 

You take his hand but continue to stomp and whine some more. You’ve _really_ got to go. Genji slips an arm around your waist, holding up your weight. If you weren’t stopping to fall over against every object and vertical surface you come across the two of you would be home already. It’s nearly five in the morning and you’re halfway through the park. On your way to cutting through the playground. 

The both of you had opted to walk home when the wait for a car was too long with everyone leaving the closing club at once. Plus, being drunk and stupid you, both of you also thought this would be fun. And it has been fun, stumbling around, yelling at strangers. Laughing over every little stupid thing. But now your bladder is so full of the nights’ drinks, that you’re thinking you just might wet yourself. “Anija! I need– like… a bush.” 

He stops to full body giggle, and look right at your crotch. In your current state, it takes you a moment to figure what it is that’s so funny. When you do get your light bulb moment, you roll your eyes; what an immature idiot. “Genji! Come on, I– I’m serious.” 

“Alright, alright, come on,” he says as he tugs you along. Suddenly you both end up tripping over something. Probably your own feet. Genji falls all the way to the ground. While you manage to keep yourself upright against a piece of playground equipment. Genji is practically rolling around the floor, cackling about his misstep when you let out a long whine. 

Genji looks up to see you with your back leaning up against the playground equipment. Hands cupped over your pussy. Pressing your fingers up against your pee hole, bottom lip tucked away in your mouth. Eyes closed tight in concentration. Genji is a heartbeat away from telling you to just let it go; when your legs start to shake, and pee streams out from between your fingers. Soaks the front of your pretty dress. Runs down your legs and seeps into the fo-wood chips.   

You can’t see your brother crawling towards you, on hands and knees, because you’ve got your face covered out of embarrassment. “Oh my god,” you whine. A crack in your voice hinting that you might be on the verge of crying. 

Genji’s not embarrassed in the least. In fact, he has a hot and heavy cock in his pants. He stands up on his knees in front of you. Places his hands above both of your knees, and places his thumbs against the wet trail leading up to your damp panties. 

He presses them into your skin as he stands up. Little droplets collecting and spilling over his thumbs as he moves upwards. The wetness rolling back down your legs once again. Tickling the skin, raising goosebumps. You still haven’t pulled your hand away from your face so you brother does it for you. Pries it away by your wrist. Admires your flush cheeks as he shoves two of your fingers between his lips. Goes down on them like he’s taking a fat cock into his mouth.

A giggle is not what Genji expected, but it’s much better than the crying. “Why am I– not surprised?” You say as you reach out to cup his dick. “You’re so  _nasty,_ ” you whisper. 

Genji pulls your fingers from his mouth, and then shoves them down into your underwear. “Fuck yeah, I am,” he whispers back, as he leans in so he can press you up against the playground equipment, and kiss you roughly. Tasting a bit of your own saltiness as he rudely rubs your clit. Open-mouthed kissing, so much tongue, and shared moaning, quickly gets rid of any lingering embarrassment from your little accident. 

You fumble around desperately with his pants, trying to get his cock free as quickly as possible. You beg, “Genji–Genji. Fuck me, fuck me!” 

There’s no need to beg. From the moment you started undoing his pants, he was helping you in your task. Genji then dropping your underwear down to your ankles, where you manage to step one leg out of them without losing your balance. You hike your leg up and over Genji’s hip, and spear yourself down onto his cock. Genji hisses through his teeth, and shoves you back against the surface and thrusts into you. 

He wraps his other arm under and around your thigh. Lifts you up and feverishly fucks into you. Presses his forehead to your clavicle and focuses on snapping his hips as hard and fast as he can. With both of your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you come quickly. Loud moans and curses echoing out into the playground. Your panties falling off of your ankle, to land onto the ground behind your brother. Both heels plummeting to the ground along with them. 

Genji comes to his own end, adding to the all of your filth and wetness. Warming you back up on the inside, while all the pee had cooled against your skin several thrusts ago. When he’s done huffing against your neck, he lets you down as carefully as Genji can manage. For a moment he has brief panicked feeling in his gut, as he thinks he dropped you when you fall down to the floor to grab your shoes. 

While you don’t forget to grab the heels, you do forget the underwear. Genji, however, does not. He scoops them up, still wet. Balls them up, and shoves them into his pants pocket. You won’t be seeing those again.  

Like a big, drunk, child you run off. Giggling and carrying a heel in each hand. “I feel much better now!” Genji isn’t even properly put away yet and your already several feet away. Dress still showing off the lower half of your cheeks, your plush ass giggling with each plant of your feet. Genji quickly fixes himself and sprints after you yelling, “Eh! Sis! Slow down!” 

But what you hear is, “Lets race!” Now you’ll make it home in no time.


	23. GenjixSister!reader/Masturbation

_Ding…ding– ding!_ Genji’s phone sounds off three times. Illuminating the pitch blackness of his room with a harsh bright light. He groans, shifting over in his bed to swat his phone underneath one of his pillows. Ends up hitting it right off of the edge of the bed instead. ‘ _Oh, fuck it’_ , he thinks to himself. He’ll get it in the morning. He’s too sleep ridden and comfortable to care about it right now.

_Ding!_ Just a single one this time. A few moments pass and his consciousness slowly fades back out, a small snore creeping it’s way out of his nose when–  _ding!_  Genji groan-yells into his pillow. This is his own fault. His phone won’t stop alerting him ‘til he acknowledges the notifications. How he never fails to forget this setting that  _he_  turned on, he’ll never understand. 

With a grunt, he launches himself up and out of bed. Snatches up his phone and takes a look at the person who has disturbed his slumber. Ah, three text messages from his dearest little sister. What could you possibly want at three thirty in the morning? Only booty calls contact him this late. Four or five failed swipes later, and Genji falls over dramatically onto his bed. The phone dings  _again._  

“I’m trying!” He complains out loud. Holding his phone over his face he gives it one more try. Successfully opens up his messages this time. Only to promptly drop his phone onto his face. Genji hardly feels the throbbing pain in his bridge of his nose. Far too focused on exactly what it was that he got just a brief glimpse of. 

He carefully picks his phone back up, as if between the moment it got dropped on his face and now, it’s turned into a thin, frail piece of glass. Genji turns it over, still open and shining brightly. Revealing two pictures of you. One of them’s taken at a high angle. With your back arched, underwear halfway down your ass. A tit grasped tightly in your palm, making a half-lidded kissy face to the camera. With the caption, “Remember any of this? It’s been sooo long : (” 

The second one’s a close-up frame of your mouth. Your tongue lewdly hanging over your bottom lip. Three fingers stuffed in so far he can see the back of your throat. “Imagine that’s your dick. Even if it’s much bigger ; )” Accompanied by one more individual text message. “See you tomorrow” with an emoji with little z’s coming out of its head. 

Genji grins as he palms his cock through his sweats. This was well worth being woken up for. Clearly, this isn’t the first time you’ve taken nudes. With these angles? The expert use of lighting? What dude has been lucky enough to be receiving nudes from his little sister? Maybe he’ll be able to finagle it out of you in the morning when you wake up and realize the oopsie you made. 

The photos most certainly aren’t meant for him, but that doesn't make any difference to the stiff cock in his hand. Genji full screens the first one. Rolls over and up onto his knees. Kneads and pulls at his cock through the fabric of his pants. His breath shudders out of his lungs. “Damn, Aneki.” You’re blessed with a plush ass. Supple looking tits. And soft, luxurious, dick sucking lips. 

Genji reaches into his pants, grips his shaft in a tight palm and pulls it out. Swipes over to the second photo. Laying his phone down on the bed he leans forward hovering over it, placing his free hand palm down next to it. The words “imagine that’s your dick” echo across his brain. Sounding in his mind’s ear like a sultry version of your voice. He gathers saliva in his mouth. Spits into his palm and closes the head of his cock in his hand. “Alright.”

Genji strokes, focusing on your picture. The stretch at the corners of your mouth. The string of saliva connecting from your canine to your ring finger. “Open wide, Sis,” he says. Gross, wet  _shlicks_  taking over the silence in his room. He imagines pushing his cock between those lips. Pressing the tip along your pink, spongy tongue. Breaching your throat, making you gag…

His heartbeat’s moved into his ears. The room suddenly so hot he’s sweating down his temple. Genji’s focused so hard on your mouth that his vision has started to blur. “Ah– you’re so good… take my cock– swallow it…” 

Genji groans long, and boisterously as he comes. Messily letting most of it just spurt out onto his bed sheets. Catches some in his palm. Holds it in front of his face. Pretends that the cloudy pool of salt is cradled in the middle of your tongue. Soon to be taken down into your belly. “Good girl,” he whispers through a breath. 

Whipping it off on his sweats he takes his phone back into his hand. Decides he’ll make this easy on you. “Try not to have a heart attack.” Send. “I’ll just forget I saw these.” He won’t. “At least you didn’t accidentally send them to father right lmao” Heh, yeah. 


	24. Hanzo/Genji/SojiroxSis!reader/Dom!little Sis

Every guard, handmaiden, and tutor that spends a prominent amount of time in the castle knows who is really in charge. It’s not either of the two Masters. It’s bossy, hoity-toity little Sister who is always figuratively pushing her big brothers around. It’s present: the authority you carry over them during the day. Whatever little sister wants she gets, here and  _now_. It bleeds over into the bedroom; more like floods. Bending each of them to your will. Commanding they get onto their knees and stay there for as long as you see fit. Do as you say to each other, and please you in whichever way you demand.

Often you will tease them, get them so close to the point of completion only to leave them high and dry. Or, rather, to take care of eachother. They always act as if they aren’t sucking each other’s cocks as soon as you turn your back on them. Desperately leaning into each other, trying to chase after the satisfaction that you love to deny them. It’s their own fault, you only drive them crazy because they insist on being such bad boys all the time.

Today, they’ve been especially bad. Fighting and bickering amongst each other all damn day. Being generally annoying and insufferable. Such as brothers are. They both sit in the arms chairs next to you. Genji leaning over to whisper antagonizing things to Hanzo. Hanzo responding in kind with short, curt snarled answers. Genji leaning against the very last thread of Hanzo’s patience, and loving every moment of it.

You’re all being dutiful children. Sitting in your father’s office, awaiting his presence. He has important things to tell you all, you’re sure. But all you can think about it punishing these bad, bad boys. You’re stiff. Chest rigid, jaw clenched with your deep annoyance. So much so, that you don’t notice your father enter the room.

By the time your brothers pull themselves away from each other to greet their father, Sojiro is already weaving his fingers between the locks of your hair. Tingles traveling down your spine, engulfing the back of your head. Hanzo and Genji are amazed by the way your eyes roll back. Eyelids fluttering closed, head leaning into your Papa’s touch. Body, melting into the chair, hands falling limply into your lap.

A simple touch that leaves you to feel as if your body has been emerged into a warm bath full of the finest salts. It’s like watching in slow motion for the brothers, as a smile creeps across your face. Your jaw rising to meet your Papa’s gaze as he leans down to give you a kiss on the forehead. The… affection– is not new, however, the pliantness is. Has this never happened before or are they simply not paying attention?

They’ve never seen you turn into such a…  _soft_ , little girl, so quickly. You snatch up Sojiro’s wrist as he tries to pull away from you. Sojiro yielding to your grasp, turning to look at you with a question on his face. With your free hand, you beckon him to come closer with one finger. He does, offering you the ear that he knows you want.

You whisper something into it, blushing at your own words. Looking into Sojiro’s eyes as he turns his face to meet yours. Your eyes searching for permission. “Start the show, Dearest,” Sojiro says. Gives you one more freshly licked lipped kiss, before going and leaning back against the front of his desk.

You stand up, each motion deliberate, a little exaggerated. Take your place wedged between the chairs your brothers are seated in. Keeping your eyes trained on your Papa. You grasp the arms of the chairs and demand, “Take out your cocks.”

Hanzo and Genji are so used to following every little demand you have that they hardly stop to think about what they’re doing. The command settles right into place, like a key fitting it’s lock perfectly. It just works as it’s supposed to; as they’re supposed to. You swat down, spread your arms out to grasp onto each of they’re shafts. Curling your fingers, feeling the restraint in both of their hips as they suppress the urge to buck into your hands. Papa’s eyes flitting from each hand to the next, amused. 

You’re waiting. Waiting for his instructions. Pulsating your grip around they’re bases. Hanzo’s groaning, while Genji is breathing heavily. Leaking  _already_ , liquid salt running down, to drip over your knuckles. Sojiro takes his time giving instruction. Leans back more, crosses his arms over his chest, and cocks his head to the side.

“Go on, little girl, stroke them.”

You let out a breath so heavy, it sounded as if you’ve been holding it this whole time. “Yes, Papa.” Hesitating only to briefly open your palms up and demand that your brothers, “spit.”

Using the lube provided, you give them a few languid strokes to get them started. Stroking all the way up to their fat, mushroom heads and down again. Using such a delicate grip that it barely gives them any stimulation. Keeping your eyes homed in on your Papa, you give them the slightest bit more pressure. Pausing each time one of them grips the chair a little too hard, or when their hips lift up off the seat, in a twitch or jerk of oncoming competition.

Genji whimpers. Bows his head to grit his teeth and concentrate on controlling himself. “Ah– oh, Aneki can I come?”

“I don’t know– can they, Papa?” 

“No,” he says plainly. Dropping their cocks against their stomachs, you bring your arms into your lap. Leaving them twitching and huffing, unfulfilled. White-knuckled, desperately pulling back the come that threatens to spurt out and paint their chests. Being good boys for once they hold it back. Still erect. Still ruddy, and leaking.

Sojiro smugly undoes his pants. Lets his stiff cock fall out, bouncing up and down, back and forth. Gives it a brief glance, and raises an eyebrow in your direction. As you start to stand Sojiro holds up a hand stopping your advancing. “Crawl.”

Hanzo can’t believe the smile that spreads across your face after hearing a  _demand._  How quickly you drop down to your hands and knees. How fluid each hand place is, how proud you are to put yourself so low for your Papa. Placing a hand against his ankle as you approach him. Pressing it into him, it all the way up. Digging your fingers into his thigh, before taking his cock firmly into your palm.

Looking back at Genji, you look dead into his eyes as you let your tongue hang out of your mouth. You lick your Papa’s shaft from base to head. Get it nice and slick. Hover your mouth just over his cock while you stroke fast and hard. Look up at him with a question in your eyes,  _am I doing good Papa?_

Those addictive digits weave themselves back into your hair. Your steady hand faltering for the briefest of moments, while a shiver runs rapidly through your body. “That’s perfect, Musume.”

Stroking faster now you say, “Oh, thank you, Papa.” Focus in on his hot, blunt head. Circle your strokes, set a pace that’s sure to work the come tickling the base of his cock. Look to Hanzo this time and tease, “You see what good boys get to have?”

Suddenly Sojiro yanks your hair back, causing you to whimper as he cranes your neck. Forcing you to watch his face as he comes. His eyes closing gently, his mouth slightly agape. Chest heaving from behind his fine dress shirt. Watching his father come is enough to make Genji practically cry. Sojiro getting the release that he so desperately would like to have.  

Sojiro guides you back up onto your feet using his hold on your hair. Kisses you and praises your performance before letting you go. Continues to consume your mouth while you’re busy putting him away. When your Papa feels he’s ravished you enough he lets you go. Allowing you to plop back down into your chair. He acknowledges his sons still throbbing cocks briefly before taking his place behind his desk; ready to get down to business.  

You look to your brothers as if they’re being offensive. “Put your dicks away… jeez, we’re having a meeting.”


	25. SojiroxSis!Reader/Exhibitionism/Voyeurism

You’re escorted into a meeting room with a round table surrounded by the heads of each department of staff. Quick to observe that each one of their mouths is pulled into a hard line, pursed or frowning. The tension is palpable. They must have received a quite the lecture from Papa. The guard sent to fetch you shuts the door and then stands in front of it. Sojiro scoots his chair back, lifting his arm to offer you his hand.  

“The help seems to believe I’m mistreating you,” he says as you place your hand in his. Papa positions you in front of him as he places a hand directly under your skirt. Kneads the meat of your thigh and asks, “do I mistreat you?”

“No, of course not, Papa.” Your gaze flits to the handmaiden that served your mother and now serves you. To the cook, the Castle handy-man. A couple of tutors who have been schooling you since you were young. All avoiding any eye contact with you. Now that you think about it none of them had bothered to address you when you arrived, how strange. 

A giggle bubbles out of your mouth as Sojiro’s fingers tickle the underside of your cheek. You state to the staff, “he does nothing but spoil me.” That seems to anger your handmaiden, her jaw grinding with the slightest shake of her head as she looks to the ceiling, biting back her protests.  

Sojiro hums in approval. Places your held hand against his face. You scratch his beard affectionately. Loving the sound and the feel of it against your nails. Papa tugs the tucked shirt out from under your waistband. Balls it up, pushing it high up, just below your breasts so he can lean forward and kiss your belly. Nervous laughter accompanies a blush rising on your cheeks. “Papa…” 

His tongue glides flat over your belly button, leaving chilled wet trail and shivers in its wake. He whispers against your skin, “Regardless, is it their place to speak on such things?” 

Sojiro pulls your underwear down your thighs, letting them fall to your feet while you contemplate the question. The answer is an obvious one, but the warmth rising in your face is making it hard to think. A huff comes from one side of the table, an answer in itself. Taking note of all the guards standing at the four corners of the room all of a sudden you comprehend what’s happening here. “No, Papa, it’s certainly isn’t.” 

Sojiro leans back in his chair, nodding his head. Leisurely unbuckles his pants, slowly tugs the zipper down. Motions for you to turn around with one finger. “Allow me to prove a point?” Your face is radiating heat, flushed from feeling so self-conscious. However, you’re still slick. You can feel it, the wetness from the brief affections Sojiro has given you in front of the staff.  

“Okay, Papa,” you say as you turn around and lower yourself down into his lap. You’re faced with the guard who brought you here. Bravely watching as your Papa pushes your skirt up to your waist, and guides you down onto his cock. Splaying your legs, one across each of his knees, you lean back and grasp onto his thighs for balance. Seat your ass all the way down and grind. 

Sojiro sighs, grasps your hips to help you move more fluidly. “That’s my good girl.” This has never been much of a secret, the relationship between you and your father. Or the ones you have with your brothers. The relationships they all have with eachother. But there’s something about this that heats up your core, causes several pangs to strike straight into your clit, making you whine with each one. Every time you moan, your breath shuddering out of your lungs, there are shifts of bodies in their seats. A couple of sucked in breaths. 

You look to the unwilling voyeurs, with ruddy faces and clenched fists. The cook who is trying to make it seem like he is not watching. But he is, you can see the flitted gaze. The shame every time he happens to look you in the eyes. The beads of sweat in his hairline. A line of it running down his forehead, not bothering to stop it as it rolls into his eye. You can see the slightest bit of a motion coming from his arm tucked underneath the table.  

Sojiro wraps an arm around your waist. Pulls you back against his chest. Leans his forehead against your shoulder blade and fucks up into you. Splays his thighs, spreading your legs even further apart. Your escort homing in on the display. A bulge forming in his pants that he doesn’t seem to care about hiding. No wonder he had “volunteered” to come and get you, he wanted a front row seat to the show. 

The fast pace at which your Papa’s cock is pumping in and out of your cunt is quickly building the pressure. Slick noises settling deep into the ears of the vastly uncomfortable staff. Your Papa showing them that they, in fact, can’t do a thing about what kind of relationship your family chooses to have with eachother. 

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth. You’re so close, you just need a little bit more…. “Papa– faster… faster, please– please..” 

In one swift, fluid motion Sojiro lifts you up and bends you over the table. He slams his cock back inside of you. Causing you to cry out, your hands searching for something to grasp onto. Grabbing a hold of your ponytail, Papa yanks your head back. Tears welling up in your water line from the sting. He fucks you roughly, giving you more than enough to make you come. The sturdy table jerking and groaning with each thrust. 

Your hands claw at the wood. Mouth hanging open. Expelling loud moans, while your slick walls clamp down around your Papa’s cock. It’s faint, the whisper, but you still happen to catch it as your winding down. Your handmaiden stating under her breath, “disgusting.” She should consider herself lucky. Lucky that you’re not offended, and that your Papa’s mind is too clouded by the emptying of his cock inside of you to hear her comment. 

Sojiro pulls you back up into his arms. Kisses your mouth and gives you thanks for your cooperation. “Go on with your day. I’ll see you tonight.”


	26. SojiroxSis!Reader/Exhibitionism

A sliver of light bleeds through the doorway. Short-lived as it’s quickly slid out of existence by you. Sojiro’s darling daughter come to pay him a late-night visit. Wearing the shortest little nightgown. He can picture you padding down the halls in the thing. Every late night guards jaw tightening, shifting their eyes and their stance. Working up the will to keep themselves from staring at the bottom of the draped fabric, as it swings and sways. Showing off glimpses of your bare, plush cheeks.  

Sojiro’s beautiful wife, your beautiful mother, lays to his right. Long been fast asleep with her back turned to him. He pulls back the sheets to welcome you in. You crawl on top of him, very, very carefully. Straddle his hips, pressing your crotch down onto his own. Already burying your face into his neck. Planting needy little, wet kisses. Humming softly as you work your way to his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, Papa,” you whisper. 

Sweet words so breathy and hot against his ear. Carries a flush of blood from his brain to his cock. Sojiro lets you kiss, suck, and grind as much as you please. Grazes his fingers along your spine. Pets your loose, disheveled hair. Lolls his head over to the side to allow you to have a deeper reach, and to watch his wife steadily breathe. Her back rising and falling as your teeth clamp down around a hefty bit of flesh. 

Sojiro growls in his chest. Swallows a groan. Weaves his fingers into your hair and pries you away from your oral fixation. Kisses you softly before lightly scolding, “You know not to leave marks.” You pout, dejected, as you reach down to free his cock from his boxers. Delicate, tender fingers wrapping around his meaty shaft. Sojiro bucks into your hand, successfully getting rid of the pout. Replaced now, by a cheeky grin. That’s  _much_ better. 

As you stroke his cock you give a concerned gaze to your mother. But there’s nothing to be concerned about, she’s still asleep. Hasn’t budged for hours, and certainly not since you crawled into their bed. He would have noticed, Sojiro’s keeping a mindful eye out for the both of you. “Look at me, Musume,” he whispers; still a clear demand even through the hushed tone.  

Your eyes immediately flit back to his and stay there as you sit down onto him. Slowly take in his length; too fast and you wouldn’t be able to help but make a dangerous amount of noise. The light may be low in the room, but Sojiro can still see the blush in your cheeks. The shudder in your chest as you take him all the way into the hilt. You’re so damn slick, the absolute best fit around his cock. Tight, warm, and hugging so, very tightly.  

You sit up straight, place your hands and his stomach for leverage and roll your hips. Sojiro catches every swallow in your throat. All the moans and whines your keeping locked away in your chest. Your jaw quivers with them, all of the restrained sounds. His little girl, focusing so hard on catching her pleasure and keeping quiet at the same time. 

The gyrations of your hips are small, and yet your eyes are still rolling back into your head. Your hot cunt clenches down around him. Miking him, working him into a sensitive, heated rush. Sojiro sinks his fingers into your thighs, bucks ever-so-slightly up into you. Suddenly, his wife shifts in her sleep. Grunts as she turns over. Eyes still shut tight but facing the two of you. Her body relaxing as she sinks back into a deep sleep. 

You had both become immobile in that moment; transfixed by the threat of getting caught. Despite that, you don’t need a command. To be told to keep going. You do it all on your own. Long before Sojiro had expected your body to unfreeze from the sudden, jarring interruption. Your nails dig into his stomach, and Sojiro swears that you get off on the thought of getting caught just as much as he does.  

You start to bounce on his cock, and then clamp both of your hands over your mouth as you come. Your walls tightening up around him, pulling his own orgasm from his abdomen. You’re tight. Nearly too tight; almost painful. Every ridge and muscle, caressing his shaft, swallowing the head of his cock. The tingles spreading through his from the head of his dick, out into his thighs. He reflexively drives his hips up into you with every spurt of salt. Your cunt taking in every last bit of his come, as it’s flowing up into you. 

Sojiro becomes acutely aware of every little thing about your body in these moments. How wet you are. The tip of his member pressing against the threshold of your pussy. How soft you are, how smooth your skin is in his callused hands. Every shutter and twitch of your thighs. The heavy breathes, that are nearly as loud as moans; risky. He continues to throb as you settle down. Just sit and let your hands fall down your face, plopping back down into his lap.

He can already see the pleading in your eyes. The, “please, Papa, can’t I stay?” As you lay back down on top of him. Latch your lips back onto the same side of his neck. Your mother’s still asleep, mouth agape, hand splayed out next to her face. You grind your hips some more, surely trying to drive him mad. Sojiro could stand to stay like this. Your body fitted perfectly against this own, his softening cock still hugged comfortably within you. 

But you are much too old for the nightmares excuse or monsters under your bed. He hugs you tightly in both of his arms. Squeezes out a small groan, and a light giggle. He tries to cushion his words his actions. You hate being told to leave. It always hurts your feelings. But you do, in fact, need to go. 

First, he cranes your neck to give you suckles in return. Wraps his fingers around your neck, presses his thumb up against the uppermost point of your chin. Kisses you feverishly. Oh, how he longs for you to stay. 

“It is time for you to go back to your bed.”

You frown deeply, look over to your still sleeping mother with the slightest bit of disdain. He snatches up your chin, forces you to him in the eye. “No, no. None of that, now. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

He kisses you one more time. “Nobodies better than my girl,” he assures you. Then pats you on the thigh, a silent command to get going.  


	27. GenjixSister!Reader/Masturbation Part 2

What a fucking jerk. Well; not necessarily a jerk; but, still. Genji had actually been quite the opposite of a jerk. Didn’t act at all like the fuckboy you had expected him to be. Truthfully you hadn’t received the outcome you were hoping for, and are now feeling like quite the brat about it.  

You ‘accidentally’ sent him some nudes, and he had been so damn sweet about the incident. ‘Accidentally’, even though you hadn’t texted your brother in weeks.  _Yeah_ , you ‘accidentally’ searched for his name in your contacts and pressed send. Coupled with a smug, proud grin. Since you had ‘accidentally’ taken pictures you were sure would tempt and cater to his fancy. Hoping that you’d end up with a much better response than what you had received.  

If it had been a true accident, Genji’s response would have been an anxiety-ridden, stress-induced, dumbasses saving grace. “Don’t worry about it,” he had said. “It never happened,” he assured you. Sure– but it  _did_ and you had meant for it to happen. Maybe you’ve been miss-characterizing him. Maybe your playboy brother isn’t as depraved as you had believed him to be. But God, do you long for him to be as sick and wanting as you feel you are.

He even played it off well in person. Acting as if you had never sent him pictures with your tits out and your fingers half way down your own throat. Not a single thing was off about his demeanor. He wasn’t reluctant to look at you, hug you, or give you a kiss on the head before taking his leave. How,  _nice_ , of him. 

It seems you’ll have to spell it out for him. So, this time, you’ll film a little video. You’re on the floor of your bathroom. Back pressed up against your bathtub. Naked and dripping wet. Skin nice and dewy, glistening with little droplets of rolling water. Finding a comfortable grip on your phone, you turn on the front-facing camera. Tap the red button on your phone’s screen to start the recording. 

Steadily you get a full body shot. From your smug face to the spread of your legs. Grope your own tit, and follow the camera down. Your hand falling between your legs. Lazily trace your fingers over your folds. Humming from the shiver that you give yourself. Sighing you scoot forward some more. Presenting your pink, glistening hole to the camera. “I’ve been dreaming of you,” you whisper out, through an exhale. Coy and vague to start. 

Dipping a finger into your juicy cunt, you pump it shallowly, in and out. Then bury it inside, with a deep and drawn out moan. “Oh…” you almost say his name. Not that the slip would be detrimental to the video. But you don’t want him to be so sure that this was made for him so quickly– “that feels so good.” Sticking another finger inside you push them in deeper. Grind your hips up into your fingers. Ride them as if you’ve got a man with a thick cock between your legs… as if it’s your brother there– Genji. 

A lean, muscle rich body, leaning into your own. Damp with sweat, fevered with breath. Craving the feel of his little sister’s body, even though he’s already buried so deep inside of her… “Ha-ah… Anija… oh– brother…” Just a little tease, at this point his ears should be burning. Wondering: is she talking about me? His cock better be throbbing in his pants by now.  

In your fantasy of him watching your video, he’s touching himself. Genji stops no matter where he is, just to shove his hand into his pants, and come to the sight of his little Sister fingering herself, all just to get his attention. In your wildest dream, he stops whatever he’s doing to come find you. Uses you take care of the swollen cock you’ve given him.  

Gathering a bit of your slick you bring it up to your clit. Rub, rudely. Unsure, maybe uncaring, if the camera is angled right. The pressure is too hot, too tightly coiled in your core, to focus. Your teeth gritting as your throw your head back against the tub. The lens losing sight of your cunt; gaining sight of your face as your mouth drops open in ecstasy. Bucking your hips, as if your chasing every last inch of Genji’s length.   

It’s when you come that you finally let his name “slip” from your lips. “Genji– oh–ah–” your lips quiver with it, your torso jerking, “fuck me– harder, Genji… ha– harder…” You leg kicking and coming back with every new wave.

When you gather your composure back, you readjust your angle. Tease your own sensitive clit just enough to make yourself whine, and your belly to convulse with the after pangs. Collecting some of your slick between your fingertips you press them together and spread them. Allow your brother to take a look at just how wet thinking of him makes you. 

Before stopping the recording you kiss the lens and croon, “Was it good for you too?” Cut the tape, that’s a wrap… and– send. Now all you have to do is wait. As if that isn’t the hardest part.  


	28. ReaperxDaughter!Reader/Rough Sex/Dub-Con

Somehow you always knew this would happen. Wanted it to happen. And yet, when it finally did you were still terrified. “Careful what you wish for” applies to all situations, including this one. You just weren’t ready– for the abruptness of it. For the interruption…

No, you’re not afraid of your father. Not of the infamous Reaper ghosting his way into your room, placed in one of the many Talon bases. Not the mask, or the living smoke wrapping its way around your body, feeling your contours. Soaking up the warmth of your skin, and giving it back ten-fold. That’s normal, you’ve been well used to these things. That’s your Papa as you’ve always known him.

It was his utter silence. The fact that you weren’t aware he was back on base. It was your lazy hand in your underwear, the image you had conjured up of him there in your mind. The small “Papa” as your pussy warmed up with each small circle of your fingers.

Then the abrupt tug and tearing of your underwear. The tendril of smoke that yanked you onto the floor by your ankle, that has your chest heaving. Tears welling and falling down your temples. “Papa?” Your dirty fantasy coming to fruition in the blink of an eye. You whimper as your legs are spread, cunt exposed to the wraith looming over your body.

“Don’t act so shocked, niña,” he croons. The deep vibrations of his voice, tingling in your chest. Much more potent than any memory you harbor of it.  Another tendril snakes under your t-shirt, pulling it up and over your head. The exposure is too much for you. Suddenly naked, goosebumps littering your exposed flesh. Nipples pebbling from the cold air and fright. No matter how many breaths you take in each one is shaky, boarding on a sob.  

Reaper, your imposing father, drops down to his knees. More slender snakes of smoke wrapping around your thighs. Spreading you wider, causing the muscles in your inner thighs to burn. “I’m only giving my little girl what she’s been clambering after.” His head crooked to the side as he takes in your pretty pink hole. Already glistening with slick. Clit, ruddy. Engorged from touching yourself, pulsating with a steady heartbeat.

Reaper chuckles as he undoes his belt. Sucks in a sharp intake of breath as one of his tendrils prods the entrance of your cunt. Brings out his cock letting it fall and bob. You’re not trying to be coy, but you lick your lips. Bite your bottom lip, your hips lifting up off of the ground. Your wanting velvet clenching at the prospect of getting stuffed up by your Papa’s meaty cock.

“What were you dreaming up in that skull of yours? You’re dripping, niña.” The tendrils of smoke tighten around your ankle and thighs, pulls your legs even farther apart. Causing you to throw your head back and keen at the stretch. “Or do you enjoy being manhandled that much?”

Papa leans forward, using your hips for leverage. Sharp nails of his gloves pressing into your sensitive flesh. Causing you to wail and writhe, the sharp points digging even more into your skin. His hot, weighty cock falling onto your stomach. He grinds against you, sliding his length up and down the expanse of your middle. “Relax, niña.”

You’re trying, you really are. He’s not wrong, not off the cuff. You’ve had… a crush on your Papa. For what feels like years. Maybe have been letting it out into the open. Showering him with needy bits of affection, outright flirting with him when he’s around for you to be able to do so. Besides if the scene in your head had truly been pulled into reality, you’d be far, far more overwhelmed than you are now. You’ve got quite the imagination.  

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath in through your nose. Reaper’s sharp talons creeping up and up. The very tips of his thumbs, gliding over the slopes of your breasts, teasing your nipples. Sending sharp shivers through your stomach into your pussy. Accumulating a new bout of slick, your cunt feeling hot and needy. Clenching down on nothing, wanting for anything.  

You throw your hands back over your head and arch your back. Bite your lip, deliberately this time. Letting it plop back out of your mouth. Papa watching your slutty little show from behind his mask. Your breath is still fevered, chest rapidly rising and falling. Shaky meek whines that accompany every exhale. But that’s now, because your body is begging for it, pleading to get filled and reamed.

“Fuck me, Papa,” you beg gently. Careful to not to sound as if you’re demanding something of Reaper. 

He chuckles, “Silly girl, I was going to.”

He slowly pulls his hips back, cock leaving a wet trail from navel to mound. Angles his hips so that his bulky head lines up perfectly with your hungry cunt. Mercilessly plunges inside with one rude thrust of his pelvis. You wail at the sudden stretch, the burn that careens through your silky, slick walls. Flowering up into your chest, taking the breath from your lungs.

Your fingers come together in a fist over your head. More tendrils of smoke wrapping themselves around your wrists, holding your position in place. Reaper ruts into you, pushing out tiny grunts from your open mouth with every snap. You hardly notice just how laced your body as become with Papa’s living smoke. How it’s wrapped around your neck, squeezing ever-so-slightly. Caressing the pillowy parts of your breasts, circling tightly around your midsection.  

All you can focus on is how deep his cock is hitting you, how filled up you are. The unbelievable heat, how your pussy continues to salivate all over his dick. Slick seeping in between your cheeks. Thighs shaking, as your velvet clamps down on his length. “Ah!– Papa! Fu-fuck… oh– oh my god…” Your whole body quaking with your intense orgasm.  

Reaper continues to piston into you long after your done coming. Fucks you ‘til you’re a sweaty, grimy, whimpering mess. All muscle strength lost to it, becoming a rag-doll being puppeted by his tentacles. Life coming back into your torso with every new little sting or jolt of pleasure.

The talons on either side of your head, drag against the tiled floor. A deep-seated growl in his chest, as he seats himself all the way inside. Grinds his hips as spurt, after thick, rich spurt fills you up. Causing your belly to feel flooded. Papa slowly pulls out of you with a  _pop_ , his cum spilling out of your inflamed, used up hole. He sits back to admire his hard work.

Reaper teases you with a tendril grazing over your sensitive nub. Your toes curling in response. “Tell me, niña, was I sweet in your fantasy?”

You weakly roll your head from side to side. “No, Papa.”

You can sense the wide grin spreading across his face from behind the mask. Next time you’ll have to beg him to take it off for you.

“Tell me about it, niña. I’m all ears.”


	29. SojiroxTrans!Son/Praise Kink

“My handsome boy,” Sojiro says in a whisper. Running his hand down the length of your spine. Stopping just at the small of your back. “You have grown so big, all of this definition– your hard work is paying off.” 

Each lick of praise blankets over your head. Warm tingles causing your shoulders to shake. Your neck craning to the side, a hum reverberating through your bare chest. His words settle into your psyche, flow through your blood. Gives life and confidence. “Thank you, Papa.”  

“No need to thank me, my son,” Sojiro says, gently pushing at the base of your spine. Encouraging you to bend over his desk. You welcome the smooth, hard surface with a soft groan. Grip the edges and arch your back. You’re ready for your Papa’s cock. Ready for him to fill you up and lace your ears with more addictive admiration. 

Sojiro drags his finger up the expanse of your thighs. Pressing his thumbs into the meat and hardened muscle. Picks a knee up and plants it down onto the desk. Moves further up, using the pads of his thumbs to spread open your hole, drinking in all of the glisten that’s just begging for him to sink his cock into it.

“A fine young man,” he states a matter of factly. Your Papa is near and next to God, so if he says it then it must be true. Sojiro uses two fingers to gather slick, slip them through your folds to slide along either side of your ruddy little cock. “Big boy.” The shake in your Papa’s breath evident in his simple but potent words.  

Those two fingers turn into a pointer and thumb. Pinching your silky foreskin, jerking swiftly. Shallow flicks of his wrists turning your body into a writhing mess. Muscles seizing up, knuckles turning white. “Oh- sh– shit, Papa…”

“Let’s have it,” Sojiro commands. “A hard-working man deserves to cum.”

The soft direct, sails through your ears, right into your fat clit. Sweat trickling out of your pores. Rolling down the definition your father had given praise to. Seeping from your hairline to fall down your temples. Your hips bucking away from his hand, only to be met with the immovable surface of the desk. Where you writhe and thank your Papa, over and over again for making you cum.

Sojiro leans over your back, placing palms flat down on either side of your torso. Your Papa doesn’t need to demand it, as soon as you feel his spongy head teasing your entrance, you push back. Nearly making your poised father fall to pieces. Velvet, hot walls hugging the head of his cock snuggly. Your slick, clenching, hungry little hole returning the tingles back to him.

“Go-good boy,” he whispers in a breath. Sinks his length in, all the way to the hilt. Rocks in and out with short but strong bursts. The trinkets, and drawers rattling with every thrust. Papa takes a hold of your hips, slams them back into his own. Gives it to you roughly through fevered breaths.

“My son– look at me.”

You take too long to do as he asks. The thrusts are too deep, to harsh for you to crane your neck in time. So in order to get what Sojiro wants he flips you over. Splays your legs around his hips. Using a grip on both of your thighs, he spears you back onto his cock. Your mouth drops open with a soft cry, throwing your arms back to retain the grip you had on the desk before. 

“Ah, there’s my strong boy.”

Papa gives you a thrust so strong that your back arches up off the desk. He leans forward so he can cup your face, run his thumb over the line of your jaw. “Sharp,” he whispers. “Just like your Papa.” Your eyelids flutter closed, chest swelling with warmth. He deep groan that was meant to be a thank you, locked away behind closed lips. 

You scoot forward on the desk so you can lock your legs around his waist. Dig your heels into the small of his back. A wordless plea for him to pump you full of his cream.

Sojrio gets the hint and gives his good boy what he wants. Beats his hips against the backs of your thighs. Slick sounds of sex, filling the relative silence of his office. Each swift snap bringing you closer and closer to another sweet release. You struggle to sit up as the pressure creeps up on you. But you want to be close to him, so you make it. Throw your arms around your Papa’s neck and grind your hips in time with his thrusts. Reach between your legs, the moment your fingers pinch your little dick, you’re cumming again.

Teeth bared as Sojiro kisses your mouth. Taking in your moans, stilling his thrusts as he unloads inside of you. Cock, twitching and swelling, as your clamping sporadically on his length. Taking it all in, ready to keep it so you can stick your hand down into your boxers later and feel the mess as it leaks out of you. Stick your digits in your mouth, suck on the salt, and remember your Papa fondly.


	30. SojiroxSis!Reader/Blowjob/Deepthroating

“Take your time, Musume,” Papa assures you, down between your Papa’s legs, looking up at him wondering if you’re doing it right. “Slow and steady, or you will make yourself throw up.”

Sojiro sits back in his office chair, hands placed leisurely on the armrests. Not wanting to rush this gentle, timid blowjob that you’re giving him. He’s got plenty of time, and there’s not really a thing he’d rather be doing. Best not to rush someone when their learning. You look up at him through your dark, delicate lashes. Pink tongue falling out of your mouth, as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. 

Just the head, popping it in and out from between your lips. Getting your jaw used to the stretch and strain of it. Stopping to use the fist around his base to give him lazy, fluid strokes; bidding your time. Before going back in to take him a little further into your mouth. Just the slightest graze of molars, as you push further than you ever have before. 

“Mind your teeth,” he says calmly, careful with his inflection, not wanting to sound like he’s scolding you.  

You’re not deterred. Sitting up off of your thighs, you place your forearms against his thighs for leverage. Get your lips glistening, and wet before taking him back in again. This time you push yourself past your previous limit. His thick, mushroom head pressing against the tight, resistant space at the back of your throat. 

You’re pushing it too quickly, your back arching with a gag. Pulling your mouth off of his cock so quickly, a lewd string of saliva accompanies the mouth pop. His face remains neutral, the only give away of just how hot that made his core warm up, being the tighter grip on the armchair. 

“Make sure to breathe, before you try again, Musume.” 

You follow the instruction to the letter, take in a deep breath. Dive back in, meticulously this time. Stopping to gather some courage before trying to take him into your throat again. This time goes just about as well as it did the first time. You gag, back arching, eyes watering enough for a few tears to roll down your rosy cheeks. 

A strong pang hits him hard in the gut. Causing Sojiro to close his eyes and let out a pleased sigh. It must have sounded exasperated to you because you look up at him with a tinge of hurt in your glassy eyes. He’s quick to reassure you, “you’re doing very well.” Drags his fingers across your cheekbones, a small smile playing across your swollen, red lips. “Mind over matter,” he suggests. 

With a new bout of confidence, you go for it again. This time when his length tests your gag reflex you still arch, still gurgle and choke. But you don’t let it stop you this time. His cock slipping past that tight space into your throat. Your head bobs, slowly taking in a little bit more with each thrust of your neck. Until his cock is completely engulfed in the hot, whiny space of your mouth.  

Sojiro swallows down a mouth full of saliva. Shifts slightly in his seat. “Good girl, very good.” Places a gentle hand on the back of your head. “I’m proud of you, now let’s make your Papa cum, hm?”


	31. Dragon(s)xSister!Reader/Voyeurism W/Hanzo

Hanzo can’t sleep tonight. Actually finds himself wanting for some company. He’s not usually much of a night owl. You and Genji are. However tonight it seems Genji has fallen fast asleep. No light under his door, the room is locked. He’ll check on you, if you too are fast asleep, he’ll come back and bother Genji ‘til he wakes up. Give his brother a taste of his own incessant medicine.

As he’s approaching your room he observes the low light coming from under your door. That’s a good sign, for him and for Genji. He’s balling up a fist, getting ready to rap against the wood when he hears– muffled moaning. That gives him pause, of course, it does. Well, you are not asleep, but… busy. 

Hanzo should– leave you to it. But then hears a low, distorted growl. Quickly followed by a musical sounding hum, clearly not made by you. But it is accompanied by a loud grunt that is clearly from you. Hanzo is exceedingly curious. Tests your door to find that you’ve left it unlocked. Balks his progress as he realizes how invasive he’s being. However, the hesitation doesn’t last for long. Curiosity too powerful a force when your grunting and whining as much as you are. 

He gently, and soundlessly, slides your door open just an inch; maybe even less than that. Just enough for him to get a peek inside. It turns out it’s all he’ll need. You’re down on elbows and knees on the floor, legs spread far apart. A couple of pillows clutched, tightly in your arms. A scarlet-red cheek resting on the soft mound of material. While your eyes are shut tight, with a makeshift gag of your own underwear stuffed into your mouth. 

But first, foremost, and most importantly, you’ve got your dragon at your bare back. Their tail wrapped around your torso, holding you steady as they roll into you. Long, cylindrical body far extended beyond your head. Your cunt is ruddy, strained, and puffy, but the dragons’ cock is still pumping fluidly in and out of you. Thick, globs of shimmering slick, seeping from your hole with every thrust.

You and your dragon seem to be enjoying yourselves. The dragon humming and growling with nearly every roll. Rutting into you swiftly, your whole body jerking forward continuously. The hold you have your pillows becoming tighter and tighter by the moment. Your moans are extremely strained, boarding on sobs. Salivating around the panties clutched between your teeth. 

It seems sacrilegious, the act of depravity that he’s looking in on. His gut churning upon the air of offense he had. Despite how prudish Hanzo was initially feeling about the scene, his hand had found it’s way between the folds of his yukata several moments ago anyway. Hanzo was unaware the dragons harbored lustful urges. Leads him to wonder just  _how_  you had come upon this discovery. 

Hanzo watches your body seize up as you start to cum. Knees bending in to bring your calves to meet your thighs, toes curling. Thighs quaking so much that they buckle, the dragons’ tail supporting your weight entirely now. Wailing from behind your gag, that isn’t doing much to muffle your cries. Even when your body relaxes from your climax, you still remain limp in the creatures hold, never gathering back the planted position that you had.  

The dragon ruts into you harshly, and swiftly for whats left of what they’ve got for you. Slams into you, as the creature, lets out a long, drawn-out whine. Their spine arched, as the dragon’s spilling their large load inside of you. Flooding your tummy, making you feel warm and even more full than you already are. The sensation is so much, that your jaw falls open wide enough for the underwear to tumble out onto the floor. Sucking in a deep, whiny breath through your mouth.  

Your eyes flutter open, looking utterly exhausted. “Oh, my– fuck- that’s good,” you whisper in a raspy voice. 

Hanzo’s on the edge of cumming. Fists having been steadily pumping his cock throughout the mating of his little sister and one of the family dragons. It’s when the dragon pulls out of you with a lewd, wet pop. Cum flowing out of your pussy, making a mess of the floor beneath you; that his own cock bursts with cum, making his own mess on the inside of his yukata.   

The dragons’ cock bobs between your thighs for a few moments longer. Still twitching. Still leaking spurts of cum, before it retracts back into the creature’s body. They lay you down gently. A pleased sigh from your lips, as you slump into your pillows. Roll over onto your back, chest heaving. The smallest little belly bulge where the dragons’ seed has found a home. 

It looks as if you’ve already fallen into sleep. While the dragon works on lapping up the mess with their tongue. The creature nuzzles your crotch, licks up their seed from your folds and your thighs. Your body jolting at the sudden prodding. The oversensitivity and tickling too much for you. “Oooh, that’s enough! I’m clean enough, please…”  

The dragon whines, almost sounding like a response; an “if you say so.” Hanzo’s never seen a dragon act quite like this before. As if he couldn’t have gotten even more perplexed than he already was. Then the dragon curls down next to you. Rests it’s head on your chest and falls asleep. Your own eyes falling closed not shortly after. 

Suddenly Hanzo is feeling very tired. Though he’s sure once his head hits his own pillow he won’t be getting much sleep. Not with these images. 


	32. GenjixSister!Reader/Masturbation Part 3

You may or may not be seething. You haven’t received so much as an acknowledgment of the literal porn of yourself that you sent to your brother. Not a single thing. You haven’t seen him at all either. Not even a passing glance. That stupid, nagging doubt, flooding back into your psyche. There’s no way you could be wrong in your judgments, right? There’s no way he could actually be avoiding you, is there? 

You sigh and say out loud, “of course, he could be, idiot.” Why is it so easy for you to forget that you’re trying to tempt your own  _Anija_ into fucking you. Like the idea that he just might not be into that would really be all that ridiculous. And not completely justifiable and the actual normal reaction.  

You’re walking down a hall filled with doors. Too inside of your own head to be privy to the meeting room door suddenly sliding open. You were just passing it by, nobody is supposed to be in there anyway. Nobody except father and whoever he summons. 

A hand reaches out and yanks you inside. For a moment you’re actually frightened. It happens so fast, your assailant a blur of color. Heart, racing. Adrenaline, pumping. A small, panicked scream escaping your mouth that quickly gets covered up by a smothering hand. Your back shoved up against the wall, just on the other side of the door. 

A deep exhale of breath when you realize it’s just your brother. Genji stares you down as he presses the toe of his shoe into the door frame, kicking out to slide it shut.  

“Are you done?” Genji asks as he pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Fluidly unlocks it, taps it once, and holds it right in front of your face. The video you “accidentally” sent him playing, not even on silent. Not quietly either, but playing at full volume.  

Still, you play coy. As if your own pussy isn’t right in front of your eyes. Screen framed by your brother’s fingers. You remove his hand from your mouth and throw it back at him. Shrugging your shoulders, you say, “with what?” 

The video is playing the part where you’re cumming, and moaning his name. The pupils in your brother’s eyes dilating at the sound of it. He shoves the phone back into his back pocket, still going. Places two hands flat down on either side of your head. Answers, “with playing games.” 

“Hmpf. Are  _you?_ ” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, leans forward to mash his mouth against yours. Flips your skirt up, and shoves his hand into your underwear. Goes right for your clit. Rubs rudely, while trying to get his tongue shoved down your throat. You’re opening up your mouth to allow him. Spreading your legs to give him better access. Adrenaline coursing even quicker through your veins now; more than in that small moment when you thought you might be getting attacked.  

You swear you could  _feel_  when the slick seeped out. When it laced your underwear with moister; the moment you realized it was Genji that took you by surprise. He could have held you down without any chatter or illusion to why he’s here, and you would have been pleased to receive it. 

Your knees are giving with the warm, fuzzy creeping of your climax. Genji locking his free arm around your waist to keep you afoot once it starts to hit you. You pry away from his lips, so you can bury your face into his neck. Taking a mouth full of the collar of his shirt in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. Genji would make you look at him if he had the free hand to do so. Would much rather watch his little sister cum, than just hear her. Oh, well– there’s always next time. 

Anija spins your around, quickly frees his cock with a couple flicks and rolls of his wrist around his zipper. You lift your own skirt. Arching your back, pressing your cheek onto the wall. “What took you so long?” You ask as he’s yanking your underwear to the side. Jamming his cock inside of you. Words tapering off into a grunt, followed by a pleased sigh of relief. 

Genji thrusts into you one, two– three times, before pausing; but not really, cause he’s still grinding against your ass. Whispers in your ear, “I wanted to make you sweat it out.” His hips roll, long and languid. Cock slipping out, just so he can slam it all the way back in again.  

A deep groan reverberates from behind your closed teeth. Leg lifting up off the ground. Fingers curling into fists placed firmly on the smooth surface in front of you. “Asshole.” 

_Thrust._  “Brat.” 

Your brother curls his fingers around your mouth. Uses his leverage to crane your head just enough for him to get a good look at you while he fucks you. As he starts to pump into you steadily, some of his cockiness begins to melt away. His face softens, giving into the pleasure. What it is about you that makes your slick, velvet the best he’s ever had he couldn’t begin to contemplate. All he knows is he’s never had anything quite as good as you are right now.  _And_  he’s sober.  

Even with the upper hand, he doesn’t get to see you cum this time either. Because he’s too lost in his own end. Face buried in your hair, breathing in your sweet scent. You smell like warmth; like a freshly laundered blanket, that he’d like to wrap  _himself_ around. Suddenly your walls clamp down around him sporadically. Your back convulsing under his chest. Muffled chanting of his name from behind his fingers.  

Genji buries his length in to the hilt. Cums loudly, groaning and whining out through exhales. Littering curses in your ear. His cock twitches and expanding with all the cum he’s spilling inside of your body. You don’t seem to care, neither does he. Genji slowly pulls out, readjusting your underwear. Spins you back around, a little more gently this time. Coupled with a serene, passionate kiss.  

You seem to be a little put off by his sudden softness, confused. So he goes for a distraction. Hands you some ammo, hoping that you’ll use it.   

“Was that– fantastic or am I full of myself?” 

You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re full of yourself–  _and_  it was fantastic.” You smile sweetly as you tease, “You’re never  _not_  full of yourself, Anija.” 


	33. Alpha!Daddycree x Omega!Daughter Reader

“Baby girl, let’s get’cha back into your nest,” Jesse says as he tries to pry you away from his chest; where you’re desperately trying to undo the buttons of his shirt. Managing to get a deep enough V for you to nuzzle your face between his pecks. Your tongue flicking out of your mouth, sending an electric shock from his chest to his toes.   

“Daddy you taste so good,” you whine as you take in a deep whiff of his skin. “ _Mate_  me.” 

McCree’s trying his damnedest not to let the pheromones of his own daughter’s heat push him into a rut. He ain’t mad at you for how clingy your being, an Omega’s first heat’s usually an intense one. You don’t know any better. But every time your thighs rubs together it stirs up your scent, and it’s causing a rut to well up in his belly; courses a boiling, primal need of his very own through his veins. 

Jesse growls in response to your teeth sinking into his flesh. He’s certainly strong enough to push you away, you’re just a little thing, and he’s an Alpha. His fatherly instincts keep him from being too rough with his Sweat Pea. Another nip and another sharp pang, sending a flush of fire into his dick, throws his patience right out the window.

“Alright, now, that’s enough!” He states as he yanks you away from him by your shoulders. McCree catches a brief glimpse of a fat, pouty lip as he dips down to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. He instantly regrets this move, as now your slick soaked crotch is directly to the right of his nose. Filling his head with the thick fog, of a rut that doesn’t care that you’re the fruit of his loins. 

He tries to throw you down into your mass of blankets and pillows, every last soft thing is here in the corner of your room. You stole all of his own pillows, all of his soft blankets. Rolling around int hem for hours, singing praises about how intoxicating he smells. McCree ain’t having too much luck. You’re still clinging to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, locking your legs around his waist. “Stop it– Darlin’– Angel, I can’t stay here when you’re like this.” 

“But I _need_  you too,” you whine as you fall back against your nest. Back arching as you peal the sweat-soaked shirt from your torso, questioning, “why is everything so hot?” You had forgone a bra a long while ago, complaining that it was too tight and hurt your chest. Plump, perky nipples, looking all swollen and sensitive. His mouth’s watering at the sight of them, his cock throbbing from your hips bucking into his own. 

You’re practically sobbing now. Begging him to knot you. Begging him to fill you up and relief the immense hunger your body’s going through. His instincts are giving in before his mentality really does. His body vibrating with a need. A need to claim. To breed. To fill. His hands with minds of their own yanking the shorts down your legs. Ripping his shirt open, yanking his belt from his loops, taking his thick, heavy Alpha cock out. 

Laced with a growl, his voice reverberating from his mouth so much lower than either of you have ever heard it, he says, “Alright, sugar, Daddy’s gonna give you what’cha need.” And he’s gonna take what he wants, and he wants is that hungry, pink velvet between your legs. You’re already his little girl. Now you’ll be his little Omega too.  

Jesse rears back so he can toss you over onto your belly. Your body landing splayed with a cute little  _umpf._  He mounts your crooning body, engulfing your senses entirely with his scent. Reaches underneath your torso so he can grope both of your tits in his greedy palms. Squeezes harshly, as he uses his leverage to bring you back flush with his hips. Ruts insistently ‘til his cock plunges into your sopping heat. 

McCree’s in a full-blown rut now. Lost inside of his own bodily chase for pleasure. He doesn’t give a damn for going slow or steady. Any reservation about being rough with his little girl lost to all the heat your bodies are making. Fucking you like this is the only chance he’s ever gonna get to do it. Thrusting into you roughly, and quick. Harsh skin to skin slapping, fueled by the delicious, wailing moans of his darling daughter, taking the full length of his cock like a seasoned whore. 

Yet, you want more. Plush ass arching into his hips. Knees spreading across the blankets to enable him as deep a reach as possible. Mouth opening wide, so you can clamp down on the pillow beneath you, muffling those musical moans that he’s thrusting out of your mouth. Jesse foregoes his hold on your breast, clawing his fingers across the expanse of skin, to yank the mass of fabric out from between your teeth. 

“Keep singin’ for me, Baby,” he breathes into your ear in between grunts that couple with every slam of his cock inside of the best cunt he’s ever had. So warm. Fits him like a tailored, slick glove, made just for him.  _God damn_ , you’re hiccuping his name in between whines, and it’s making him lose any semblance of control he had left. Grunting and growling in your ear like a real beast at your back.  

McCree takes a taste of your skin with a long lick, savoring the flavor of your potent Omega pheromones that are seeping through your pores. His darling tastes so good he wants to take a bite. Doesn’t give a shit about the consequences of marking his own kin, this knot that’s swelling up is gonna claim you anyhow. You’re his Omega now, and Daddy’s gonna to mark you to show it. After all his Moonshine will be safer that way.

Mercilessly he sinks his teeth into the fatty portion of your shoulder. A loud keen flowing from your mouth, as your hand flies back to claw at his hair. When his teeth break skin, and the taste of copper floods his mouth, he slams into you and cums. Growling deep in his chest, his stomach muscles concaving with every thick, creamy ribbon he spurts. Practically snarling around the piece of meat he has in his mouth. 

Jesse releases your neck, lines of blood rolling down your shoulder. Nuzzling his beard against the slope of your neck. Whispering little ministrations, grinding his knot into your backside. You whine, “that hurt, Daddy.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry, Angel,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist. Pulls you back to sit you down on his lap. His knot briefly tugs at your entrance. Causing you to suck air through your teeth, your head falling back against his shoulder. Your alluring breasts heaving at the feeling. McCree can’t help but play with them some more, admiring the bright red marks tinging on a darker color, promising bruises. He whispers into your ear, “it’s for your own good Darlin’, just part’a bein’ an Omega.”    

You nod in agreement but frown at the sight of your own blood rolling down the slope of your breast. He grabs a hold of your chin a little harder than he meant to. Your rosy red cheeks plumping up, lips pursing. He cranes your neck, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I’ma take care’a you, understand?”  

You hum, and nod. You do, of course he will, he always has. 

“That’s my girl.”


	34. SojiroxSis!Reader/Geisha/Choking

“Lie back, my Blossom,” Sojiro says to you. Places an open palm against the lavender obi around your waist. Shoves you back against his the table, before you have a chance to heed his command. He couldn't be more pleased with his modern-day geisha. His hard-working, impressive, little songbird. Who never fails to impress the elders or the gaggle of businessmen he invites to the Castle to make nice with. 

With his daughter walking through the doors of the meeting room, commanding any and all attention just by being. Taking you place upon your custom made stage, looking like you’ve stepped right out of the 19th century, you help make your Papa seem even more otherworldly, time and time again.  

“You make me so proud,” he says to you as he curls his fingers around your neck. 

Sojiro looks back fondly on how seriously you took your training. How much you had longed to do it and do it well. Excelling in every field. Coming forth with a beguiling voice, and fluid traditional dance moves. Incredibly poised and learned in conversation. 

He’s vigilant to let the gentleman and ladies know just how honored they should be to be entertained by the most revered geisha in all of Japan, for free, as a customary tradition when visiting his home. There are not many geisha in these modern times, let alone one so enrapturing as you are. 

Even for all of the entertainment you provide, and how professional you are; Sojiro can’t help the low simmering heat of jealousy that comes from watching you converse with all of those unworthy businessmen. With there grubby hands, and greedy gaping. Vying for your attention, nearly snapping at each other’s throats like dogs in a rut. Fellow (rival) clan leaders and their sons who will always, without fail, try to ask him for your hand before they leave, because you are  _expert_  at what you do. 

The answer is no, will always be, no. 

When all of the frothing wolves are gone, and business has come to a close, it is customary for Sojiro to sit you down ontop the long meeting table and gush over your performance. See how long it takes for his will to bend to his impulses. His hands ghosted over the makeup on your face. Over the pinned up hair on your head. A work of art that took you hours to complete. The lines of your makeup were perfect. Not a single hair out of place on your head. Your antique hair pieces meticulously placed. 

Sometimes… it is satisfying to ruin something so  _pretty_ and _perfect_. Sojiro’s sudden harshness surprises you every time. Goes from admiring you, listening to you tell him about all of the rude things the men whispered into your ear, to snatching you up so suddenly your breath catches in your throat. 

His hands clamped down on either side of your jaw. Brought you forward so he could smudge the scarlet red lipstick on your lips with his mouth. Dragged his teeth across your bottom lip and left his mark. Hooked his thumbs into your mouth. Gathered wetness and dragged them across your cheekbones, created gash marks in the stark white makeup. 

Was only careful to remove your hair ornaments. Mindful to not disrespect the delicate kanzashi that have been in the family for generations. Dug his fingers into your hair, removed the bobby pins, unraveled your long strands of silk.

Now you’re laying back on his table. Legs splayed, wrapped around his waist, and heels digging into the small of his back.  _Grinning_ , you’re grinning up at him, and Sojiro is waiting for you to beg for it. You struggle to swallow, your throat rippling under his palm. He shoves his arm under your kimono. Drags his fingers across your thigh. Comes to the line of skin where the thigh meets hip, unsurprised to find that you didn’t bother with underwear.

His fingers just barely graze your folds, causing a ripple to run through your body. “Oh… please… Papa, touch me– please…” 

He will. You deserve a reward for being so good. But his ears always prickle at the sound of your strangled begging. It’s addicting the sound of it. Your eyes flutter closed as his fingers sink into your pussy, palm up. No qualms about burying them into his knuckles, laying his thumb on your clit. Your hips lifting into it, losing all of your professional composure in a single moment. 

Ruined makeup, ruined hair and ruined poise: just how he likes to end these long, drawn-out meetings with contrite, cordial attitudes of men and women who would no sooner like to drive a pointed blade into his back (truthfully he’d like to do the same.) People who dress themselves up like they are something to be respected, but they are  _not_. 

This ‘quiet’, solitary time is him at his most sincere, showering his child with praise. Dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, three fingers deep in his pride and joy. You are sincere, real; at least always in his gaze. Even when you’re smiling sweetly and laughing boisterously at jokes that are not within an inch of humorous. So convincing, an award-winning actress for everyone but him. Nothing can be hidden from him with it comes to his Musume. Not even from behind heavy makeup, and folds upon folds of clothes. 

You’re still his little girl, and Sojiro knows exactly how to make you unravel. How to coax his beautiful blossom into spreading open and cumming on command. Presses the pads of his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Strokes, and very slowly circles his thumb around your nub. A new bout of blood rushing into his cock with every little shaky breath that struggles to escape your throat.  

You cling to his forearm, fingers digging into his skin. “Harder,” you whisper. You don’t have to specify what. He leans forward, applying more of his weight onto your neck. You moan with the pressure, your velvet squeezing down around his digits. Fucking yourself on them with erratic gyrations of your hips.  

Sojiro can see it in your eyes, the question. All he needs to hear is the start of the soft pop of a ‘P’ and he’ll allow it. Your skin is scarlet where the gashes in your makeup provide it to be seen. Tears welling up in your eyes, rolling down your temples, gathering white, and carrying it into your hair.  “Pa–ple–”

There it is. “Cum, Songbird, let me have it.” 

You do, give it to him immediately. Struggling to moan, little gurgles coming form your gaped mouth. The pink of your tongue peeking out from between your teeth. More tears, as your hips buck, and he squeezes harder. Providing you with every bit of intensity that you crave. Your legs kicking out, a real struggle coming forth from your body. 

Sojiro releases your neck, his breath hitching at the sight of his handprint in the makeup of your neck. You take a deep ragged breath, still fucking yourself on his fingers, trying to catch every last bit of your climax. Running your hand up and down the length of his arm, a silent, “thank you, Papa.” 

Papa lifts you up by your wrist. Kisses you again, getting even more white and red all over his rich, brown beard. Suddenly he feels like having a bath. “Shall we get cleaned up?” He asks still taking kisses as he pleases, knowing that your answer is not only a willing but eager yes.  


	35. Hanzo/GenjixSis!Reader/Kitten Play/Omorashi

The Shimada brothers are strict Masters, watching from their perch. Admiring the pink flush in your cheeks, that as far as they are concerned, they put there. Turning their heads from side to side as if admiring a painting. Leaning forward in your crosslegged position, you whine at the pressure in your belly. You’re so full, that your leg is giggling uncontrollably underneath you. Hands cupped over your pussy, fingers pressing into your sensitive hole. 

“Go on, pretty kitty, roll over.” Genji croons from his seat, leaning forward so he can get every last glimpse of your body as you obediently roll onto your front, albeit with a little pout.  

“On your knees now, kitten,” Hanzo demands. The same cooing lilt in his voice. He is talking to his pet after all. 

The hop up onto your knees jiggles your bursting bladder. Hurts your tummy, causes you to squirm. Ass wiggling to and fro. “Masters I really need to pee,” you inform them, as if they aren’t well aware.  

“We told you, you do not get to go until your done with all the tricks, kitten,” Hanzo informs you. A long-winded, but obvious, no. 

Your response is to kick your legs up and down, and cry about it. The angle your body is at providing for some strange new pressure. You’re so full it’s hurting. Little cramps tugging and pulling at your abdominal muscles. Able to feel the warmth in your bladder through your stomach. 

It’s an interesting sensation that reminds you of being full of… something else. If only it weren’t for that pesky overwhelming need to let it all out. Your forehead drops to the pretty, soft rug beneath you, trying to concentrate on keeping it in. Cat ears falling askew, the lock on your collar rattling from all the squirming. 

A trickle of pee streams out. You slam your thighs together abruptly in a last-ditch effort to hold back the flood. Your tail getting caught between your thighs. Legs shaking, back arching from the effort. It’s no use, you’re far too full.

“Bad girl, Sis, open your legs let us see your shame,” Genji says. 

Opening your legs quickly, so as not to disappoint your Masters, the piss streams out freely, beyond your control. A hot and heavy flow, pooling and soaking into the rug. Wetting the tip of your favorite tail. Making an absolute mess of the rug, the thing will surely need to be thrown out now.   

Bringing your hands to your face you cry, “I’m so sorry, Masters.” 

Hanzo is the first to rise up off of his seat. Drops down to his knees next to you. Gets right into the puddle, uncaring that his pants are soaking up all the mess.  He pulls the tail out from between your thighs and throws it over your back. A few droplets splashing against your cheek. “Tsk. tsk. That’s a very bad kitty.”

“Punishment?” Genji questions, joining his brother down on the floor. 

“Of course, all training requires discipline for failure.” Hanzo peels the damp panties off of your ass, leaving them stretched out between your knees. Hanzo traces two fingers over your glistening, wet folds. “Naughty girl.” 

Hanzo grabs a hold of your neck, forces you on hands and knees to turn around and face the filth. Leans his weight onto your neck just enough to force your face into the dampness. Rubbing your nose in your accident, ensuring that you’ll never forget the mess you’ve made. 

Genji takes up giving you a swift “disciplinary” smack on your ass, and then another one, and another one. Keeps giving you spanks ‘til your cheeks are a mass of swollen, radiating heat, and tiny sporadic little heartbeats. Spanks your pussy. That stings like hell, legs kicking up and down in response. Situates himself behind you, frees his cock and presses his blunt tip to your entrance. 

Genji leans forward, sinking his cock into you. The abrupt stretch burns, but it still feels so, very, good. He gives you a few lazy pumps before stilling. His hands gripping your hips as he stays fully seated inside of you. Eyes closed in concentration as he starts to let go. 

Hanzo still holds your face against the carpet. “Let us see how you like it when we go where we are not supposed to.” 

Suddenly it feels like Genji letting go a steady stream of cum. Nonstop, continuously filling you up with warmth. Brimming over, trickling out of your cunt, despite the fat cock plugging you up. Heat rises in your face, walls clenching down around your brother’s length. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper. Covering your face with your hand. Wetness steadily trickling down the insides of your thighs. Genji fucks you hard. Viscous snaps of his hips and the piss making for extremely slick, wet sounds. Salty mess dribbling out from between your folds with every thrust. Your Anija trying to catch his end quickly. 

As soon as he’s done stuffing you full of a thicker, slick warmth. Hanzo is ready, entering your messy hole with one swift thrust. Holding your ass as flush with his hips as he can. Fingers digging into the meat of your hip, stinging. Sure to leave little bruises. You gather yourself up onto your elbows. Bottom lip sucked between your teeth as the second stream of piss flows into your body.

Hanging your head you moan. Legs shaking, a shiver careening from the small of your back to your head. Causing your cat ears to fall completely off your head. Genji grabs them for you, places them back onto your head. Gets down on his own elbows so he can coo at you, “I think our kitten likes it. Don’t you pretty kitty?” 

“Mhmm,” you say with a timid little nod.

“Brother, get back here or you will miss it.”

Genji’s gone after giving you a brief scratch under your chin. Instead of fucking the piss from your body, Hanzo pulls out. A flood flowing from your cunt, a visual that Genji would have been sad to have missed, your greedy little hole clenching to try and keep some of it to yourself. 

Hanzo plunges back in demanding, “fuck yourself on my cock, kitten.” 

Without hesitation or question, you lift and slam your hips down. Gyrate, and push back on him as much as the leverage you have will allow. It’s not long before you find the perfect pace. That sweet angle that hits your sensitive bundle of nerves every time. A new pressure arising that quickly begs for release. “Oh– may I cum Master? May I? Please–”   

“You may.” 

Your fingers curl around heaps of damp rug, back arching. Losing all of your perfect rhythm as you cum. Hanzo slamming your hips back into his own, helping you get through it with every little bit of pleasure you can get out of it. Holds you flush once more as he cums, spilling the last bit fo himself that he got to give you. His thumbs digging into the redness of your cheeks, causing you to whimper from the sting. 

Hanzo sits back, admiring your leaking hole. Much in the same way he was earlier. “Filthy,” he says fondly. An air of pride about how messy he’s made his kitten.  

Genji places a hand on his big brother’s shoulder. “Good thing our kitten likes water, cause she needs a bath, don’t you think?” 


	36. Trans!GenjixHanzoxSister!Reader/Voyeurism

Genji’s got resolve and he will be the victor of this little game he’s playing with his brother. Hands hooked under his knees, he keeps them pulled back and spread, while he’s getting speared by his Anija. Hanzo putting forth an immense amount of effort, needing to be the best in everything, refusing to lose even when it comes to a trivial contest of “who can hold out the longest?” 

The more effort he puts into pounding Genji’s pussy, jerking his little cock, trying to give his little brother no choice but to bust, only proves to bring himself dangerously close to cumming. Unacceptable as finishing first would make him the loser. So he lets up just as Genji can swear he feels a swell arise in his cock, the muscles of Hanzo’s stomach pulling taught for a brief moment in which Genji thought he had won.   

“Cum now, brother,” Genji says with a wink and a sly smile. 

Hanzo growls out a refusal, but it’s painfully apparent that he remains teetering on the edge. The ruddiness of his chest, the beads of sweat along his hairline. All signs of imminent defeat for his big brother. Hanzo is putting all of his will and stubbornness into his dick, but Genji has the smug feeling it won’t be enough, even for how much of it Hanzo has. 

Genji decides it’s time to fight dirty, spreads his own legs wider, and clenches down on Hanzo’s cock. Groans out Hanzo’s name, and rolls his hips. Gets so into it that he feels a dangerous tug in his belly. Genji letting go of his devious plan to milk the cum from Hanzo’s cock quickly. Hanzo retaliates by pinching his fat clit with purpose, snaps his hips deep and fast.  

Genji is sure he’s on the road to victory now. Hanzo’s mouth dropping open, the fervent strokes he was giving him, faltering. But then a new player enters the game. His baby sister casually strolls into the room, looking annoyed and uncaring of the spectacle happening on the bed. Genji cranes his neck to look at you, his eyebrows raising with a question. 

You lean forward and tap your wrist. “We’re all waiting on you guys.” 

 _Oh, no,_ he thinks as he feels the sudden swell of pressure in his mound. Hanzo hasn’t acknowledged your presence, still hard focused on not losing. Not that it would matter much anyway, having a third party gaze is his weakness, not Hanzo’s. 

“Alright, alright,” Genji says out of breath, a telltale sign that he’s about to cum. “We’ll be there in a sec, Sis.” 

“No.” You cross your arms over your chest and plant your foot. “You guys need to come,  _now_. We’re tired of waiting.”  

That’s it he’s done for, there’s not much he can do about it now. There are no instant replays in this kind of game. No way to tell who started to cum first. Both Genji and his brother let out shared groans and whimpers. Genji gritting his teeth, grasping at the sheets. Hanzo shooting his load inside of him, all seemingly in the same exact moment. 

You huff, seemingly proud of yourself, because you are. “Guess that makes me the victor, hmm?” Leaving Genji to wonder if there is anyone awaiting their presence at all. 


	37. Hanzo/Genji/SojiroxNeutral!Reader

Hanzo’s palms hold down your shoulders, thick, callused fingers digging into your shoulder blades. Your binds hold you right where you’re supposed to be. Splayed open on a plush Shimada bed. But Hanzo desires to force you down into the mattress even more. So harshly it’s sure to leave a lasting imprint of your gaping mouth. 

Hanzo slams his hips into your ass, trying to unload himself inside of you for the… fourth time today? His brother off to the side, casually leaning against the wall, feeling up his cock through his jeans, awaiting his turn to use their living sex toy. 

“This is you at your most useful,” he croons, the authority and low baritones of his voice, striking straight from your spine into your core. A couple more slams of his hips as he settles in and adds to the overflowing pool of mixed seed inside of you. “Made for milking cum,” he says through a groan. 

Genji takes his turn just as eagerly as he did the first time. More than happy to keep you speared on dick. Fucking into the mess of his kin’s cum. His brother’s, father’s and his own. As he too has used you well and good today. 

This round with the youngest shimada is long and rough. Genji is well beyond the point of being bursting. His cock takes much more stimulation to catch his end. And when he does he give you a simple, “Thanks.” Leaves you with a swift smack against your sopping wet hole. Giving you brief rest, before one of them comes back. 

Leaving you to think about your aching spread arms and your aching spread thighs. Ropes keeping you open and where you’re supposed to be, tied to the headboard and bedposts, respectively. Oozes of cum seeping from your used and abused hole. Keeping your thighs slick, and the sheets underneath you soaked and stained. You reak of it: sex, sweat, and fluids. Waiting to see which Shimada will be back to use you some more. 

Next, into the fray is Papa Shimada, just as you thought it would be. Sliding open the door, cock already halfway out of his slacks. Your mouth salivating at the sight of it. You’ve lost the concept of time, but it has already felt like too long since the last time you got fucked today. Your greedy, messy little hole clenching, begging for more. Sojiro is swift onto the bed, slams into you, quick to start a harsh pace. 

You cry out, your arms and legs tugging against the ropes. You’re much more sensitive than you thought you were. The muscles in your thighs twitching, a slew of curses being said into the sheets. Sojiro ups his pace, holds your head down onto the bed. “Don’t act like you don’t live for this.” He snaps his hips into you, holds them flush, rolling his hips. “Tell me what you are.” 

Licking your lips, your swallow down bit of saliva. It’s been hours since you last spoke, so your voice comes out hoarse. “Your royal slut.”  

“That’s exactly right,” he says as he grips the underside of your knee and spreads you open wider. Causing the muscles in your thighs to stretch a little beyond your comfort zone. The burn forcing another wail from your lips. “I like a toy who knows their place.” 


	38. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader/ Omorashi

Your Daddy comes up behind you while you’re waiting for your trainer to join you in the meeting room. Pokes you in the side and scares the absolute hell outa you. You were concentrating so hard and forgetting about your need to pee that you didn’t even hear the door open. “Daddy!” You complain, with a little jump in your seat. “Don’t do that! Just ‘bout made me pee myself.” 

Jesse chuckles, gives you a kiss on your temple and says, “Is that right?” 

“Yeah!”  

Your leg giggles under the table, ripples of skin running from knee to upper thigh. McCree eye’s it as he takes a seat in the chair next to you. Gives you a little poke in the side, that makes you gasp and squirm. 

“Well, why don’t’cha go then?” 

“Cause my trainer said, and I quote, if you’re late one more time I’m failin’ you.” You huff and roll your eyes, feeling that the ultimatum is unjust. “So I’m sittin’ here waitin’ for her, who is _late_  by the by, so I can ask her if I may pee.”

Jesse slips his hand under your dress, tickles the inside of your thigh. With another aghast gasp, you snatch up his wrist, growling a little. “Daddy, stop it!”  

Your strength is nothing much compared to your Daddy’s. Not that he’s got that much protest, as his hand travels to your waist. Tickles the soft bits there, your thighs slamming together, whining through closed lips. “You look real cute when your cheeks are all rosy like that.” 

Daddy slips out of his seat, wedges his prosthetic hand between your thighs so he can pry them open. “Pop,” you whisper, your eyes skirting to the door. “What’re you doin?” 

“If you gotta go, then you gotta go, hun.” He pulls you forward in your seat, your dress riding up your thighs. Jesse opens his mouth and places it over the fabric of your underwear. While his other damned hand stays latched onto your side, fingers tickling and poking. Giving you little starts and jerks each time, accompanied by strangled giggles.  

“Oh– Daddy get up,” you demand, more than a little half-heartedly. He’s suckling on your clit through your panties, and lord if it doesn’t feel good with all the pressure you’ve already got in your belly. Pop shakes his head from side to side, mumbles “no” into your crotch. 

Your attention keeps flitting to the door, squirming for a multitude of reasons now. Jesse takes notice, acting as if he doesn’t have a single care about it. “If you wanna avoid a scandal, Sugar, I suggest you go.” Then he shrugs, licks the fabric from as low as he can reach, all the way back to your nub. “Or don’t, I ain’t tryna pressure you.” 

You hit him playfully on his shoulder. “You’re full’a shit, Daddy.” 

Jesse chuckles, amused. Retaliates by tickling you under your knee, your whole boy lurches forward, leg kicking out. The first trickle of pee just barely creating a wet spot on the fabric out your underwear. “That’s it; go on, Darlin’.” 

“Oh it’s gonna make a mess,” you say, stomping your foot on the ground in frustration. 

Jesse’s had enough of tryna convince you. So he presses an open palm down on your lower belly. Like turning on a faucet, suddenly you lose control and let it flow out of you. McCree latches on, takes just about every little drop that seeps through your underwear into his mouth and down his throat. Your thighs shake against his cheeks, a feeling he can never get enough of. Both of your hands clamping down on either side of his hat, forcing him deeper into your crotch. 

A few drops roll down his chin as Jesse sits back up in his chair. A couple of lines streaked down the crotch of the chair, a couple shiny drops on the floor. For the most part, not that much of a mess. Daddy glides his fingers along your crotch, admiring the dampness. “Now, I’d say that ain’t half bad.” 

Suddenly the door slides open and your tardy trainer walks through the door. McCree pulls his hand away swiftly, but calmy. While you, not so calmy, pull your dress down, and rub out the wetness on the floor with your foot. She’s too engrossed in how late she is, apologizing and over and over to notice anything off. 

Jesse pats your knee. Gets up and tips his hat to the woman. “Ma’am.” Winks at you and says, “I’ll see you later, Pumpkin. Don’t be too ornery for the nice lady, now.”


	39. Daddycree x Trans!Son/ Spanking

McCree’s little boy is just about the oneriest little shit he’s ever come across. He can’t deny that you’re just taking after him. But damn if Jesse never thought he’d have to lay you down over his knees and spank your bottom at such an old age. But he finds himself with the itch to do it time and time again. Though, if he didn’t know any better, he’d gather that you’re being a shit on purpose. 

And yet, here the two of you are again. He’s snapping his fingers, patting his lap.  _Drop trow, and lay down._ You embarrassed the hell outa him today. Mouthing off and arguing with him in front of company. Challenging his authority. He relaxes back on the couch as you unbutton your pants, and pull them down in the back. Holding the fabric in front of your crotch as you climb onto the couch. 

You let the fabric go just as your about to lay across his lap. Giving McCree a good look at your nethers. A ruddy, little, fat dick, nestled between folds of dark tufts of hair. McCree huffs as you lay across his thighs, his mouth watering. You keep shifting around, trying to find a comfortable position. Finally settling in with the slightest arch of your back. 

“I’m gonna ask you a question n’you better answer me right,” McCree says with the first spank across your ass. You grunt and bury your face in your arms. 

“Alright, Papa.”  

“Who’s the boss in this house?” He asks with two quick, but planted swats across your cheeks. 

Of course, you gotta squirm and groan before you give him an answer. Stirring the blood in his loins. “You are, Papa.” 

He latches his free hand onto your waist. Brings his open palm down onto each of your bare cheeks, one after the other. Red starting to flower, and welt. Heat rising on your skin as he hovers his hand over your ass. “If you know it, then why don’t’cha act like it,” he says with the harshest smack he’s given you yet.

Jesse always has a breaking point. A moment in which he becomes sick of holding back and really just takes out his frustrations on you. It happens quickly this time. Spanking your ass over and over, with no pauses for a reprieve. Keeps smacking you despite how much blood rushes into his cock with every land. Or how flustered and squirmy you get in his lap. The curve of the bulge in his pants pressing into your stomach, but you don’t acknowledge it, you never do.    

The next spank lands so deep and so low that the tips of his fingers get a taste of the stickiness between your legs. McCree is quick to take a sniff of them, taking in the musk of his son laid across his lap. His son who is whimpering and whining, rolling his belly over his stomach. Ass, swollen; a deep red color. None the wiser to just how much his scent stirs the heat in his core. 

He can’t wait to see you try and sit down for dinner later. How you’ll wince and sit forward in your seat; avoiding putting any pressure on your abused rump. The next hit makes your whole body lift up off of his lap. Crawling forward to try and work yourself through the immense sting. “You better get back here, Boy.” 

You do, with shaky arms and a quaking torso. Lay back down on his thighs, gripping the edge of the couch, biting down onto your own forearm. Jesse ghosts his fingers across your skin, your body jolting from the anticipation. He’s painfully tempted. Tempted to end this game he’s been playing. Slip his fingers down and into you, feel the heat of your insides. 

McCree successfully resists as he always does. Your back rising and falling rapidly, as he rears his hand back again. Teeth sinking into the flesh of your arm. Back  _arching,_ God damn it _._  “Just a few more’n I think we can call it a lesson learned.” Though something tells him your disappointed to hear that your punishment will be ending soon. 


	40. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader/Dark/NON-CON/Yandere

You are just about the prettiest gal Jesse’s ever come across. All bright eyed and bushy tailed. Young, too young, as he’s heard many times. Came into Overwatch ready and willing to do whatever you can to fit in and pull your weight. McCree admires your Spitfire, all of your gusto. Your charming, angel of a smile that strangely reminds him of his own. You could charm the pants off of anybody, especially himself. 

What was best about your arrival sixth months ago, was that your attention was always homed in on him. Anytime you’d pass eachother in the hallways you always made time to say hi and give him the best hugs. Making sure to sit with him in the mess hall at dinner and lunchtime. It didn’t take long for him to latch onto you, start feeling a bit… possessive. 

It had gotten to the point where you were making plans to eat with eachother. Readjusting schedules just to get a little bit of time to hang out. McCree’s not usually one for falling hard and falling fast, but damn you’ve got a tied string wrapped around his heart, and you tug on it anytime you’re around.

When he buckled down and invited you to his place, decided it was time he try and make an honest woman outa you, you seemed uncharacteristically apprehensive. Fumbled over giving him an excuse to say no. Every moment you spent not telling him yes, caused that string you tied around his heart to tighten painfully tight. Created a wash of heat in his chest. Thankfully you gave in,  slapped your hands down on your thighs and said, “Why the hell not!” 

McCree thought to himself, the words gliding across his brain as free and natural as a bird,  _good girl._ He agreed out loud, “That’s right, why the hell not, Darlin’.”  _‘Took you long enough to say so, nearly broke my heart.’_  Broken off and swallowed down. Best to not come off to clingy. 

It’s not the easiest thing, just going out and taking a little lady on a date. The woes of being an outlaw. But he can still fix up some grub and make a table look real pretty. More personal and better than any restaurant in his opinion. He can provide anything you’d ever want or ever need, right within the confines of his home. 

Besides, it feels like you and him have been on plenty of dates already. All it’s gonna take is a few solidifying statements, and maybe a primal act to officially make you his. 

Jesse’s following you through the door to his place. You’ve got the best God damn sway in your hips that he’s ever seen, the nicest round ass. He don’t mean to be ungentlemanly, but he can’t help but gawk at it. You just dressed up so nice for your date with him. Wearing the cutest little sundress, with frilly shoulders that sit on your arms. Exposing your shoulders and neckline. 

Halfway through the dinner and Jesse is tryna understand how a girl like you can be so damn nervous. Your leg hadn’t stopped bouncing under the table for the entire dinner. Sipping on your wine a little faster than he had anticipated you would have. Not he minds much, he likes a girl who can drink. The more relaxed you are the better things are gonna go later. After some banter, and a couple of more glasses of wine McCree gets up to put on a little slow dancing music. 

“Hey, McCree?” 

“Go on, Darlin’.” 

“Did you ever… I don’t know–” You hang your head as you tug and pull at the hem of your dress nervously. “I guess I was wonderin’ if you ever were sweet on the idea of havin’ a kid.” 

Lord, that’s another thing he adores about you. You grew up in the New Mexico just like him. Talk so much like him, the accent is so darling coming from your lips. McCree laughs as he picks out a song. Swings around, takes his hat off of his head, and extends his hand out to you. “It’s’a little early to be thinkin’ about children don’t’cha think?” 

As you’re doing that thing where you fumble over your words. Saying ‘no’ over and over again. Insisting that wasn’t what you were tryna get at. You were just curious is all. McCree grabs you by the wrist and yanks you up out of your seat. “Eh, now don’t fret so much. If I happened upon the right little lady, I’d be more than obliged to have a kid or two.” 

You whine a little at his answer. Shift around in his arms as he’s trying to hold you close. It seems like perhaps your tryna resist him a little bit and he doesn’t like that one bit. “Hey Sugar, how ‘bout you relax?” 

You mind him, but only slightly. Keeping your arms tightly pulled against your body, allowing him to sway you to and fro. Not exactly the romantic dance he was going for. Finally, he decides to just say “to hell with it.” Maybe your pent-up cause you’re anticipating the flow of the night. So he’ll just go ahead and break the tension. 

Jesse tips your head up so you’re looking him in the eye. “God damn, you’re beautiful, you’know that?” 

The look you give him is one of pity, and that’s something he just don’t understand. “Oh, Jesse I– I really should get goin’.” 

His fingers curl around your jawline. Anger and offense bubbling in his belly. “Did you hear me just give you a compliment?”

“I– I did but…” 

McCree lurches forward to kiss you. Forces his mouth over yours. Groans to let you know just how much he wants you. You don’t reciprocate it. Instead, you’re shaking your head back and forth. Trying to get away from him. Making the “mm-mm” sound in your throat. He pulls away to get a look at you and ask, “Are we goin’ too fast?” 

“No-no, Jesse– I– I don’t like you like that–” 

Instantly the string around his heart snaps. Releasing a dangerous flood of hurt, and livid hot anger through his blood. “What the fuck you mean, you don’t like me?! What have we been doin’ for the past six months?! What are we doin’ here tonight?!” 

Tears brim in your water line. Big doe eyes, darting back and forth across his face. You’ve never once heard him raise his voice, and here he his yelling in your face. “I’m real sorry– I’ve been a coward, I realize this is awkward.. but–”

“Awkward?!” He growls as he shakes your head so hard some of your hair comes out of your neat ponytail. “You don’t get to fuckin’ tease a man to the point of lovin’ and then tear ‘em down like this!” 

“Jesse, I wasn’t teasin’–” 

McCree’s had enough of hearing you tear his heart apart. Seething rage at your audacity to string him along like this, breaking his gentleman-like persona. More like stomping on it, and trampling it into the ground. He clamps a hand over your mouth. Picks you up and starts to drag you along. Big, bright eyes widening, begging him to let you go. 

Tears stream down your cheeks. Legs kicking so wildly that you land two swift blows to his each of his shins. Startled he drops you, and you try to bolt. But his long reach gets you by that ponytail. Yanks you back into his hold, with a loud yelp from your mouth. Your back slamming into his chest, taking your breath away.  

You wheeze out, “McCree,  _please_ –” he’s quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, big fingers digging painfully into your cheek. McCree doesn’t wanna hear any more from you. As far as he’s concerned everything that’s ever come out of your mouth was a lie, a farce.

He continues dragging you towards his bedroom, your heels dragging against the floor. You’re still kicking, screaming and begging into the palm of his hand. The adorable, baby blue kitten heels you wore in here flying off of your feet, colliding with walls, with loud, jarring thumps. McCree keeping his neck craned back, avoiding your attempts to headbutt him with the back of your head. 

Jesse both throws you and himself down on the bed. His weight crushing on top of your body. Pushing you so far into the sheets that it’s hard to breathe through your nose. You’ve never been so scared, never cried so hard. If he’d just let up on your mouth you’d be able to tell him. All of the courage you needed to gather, here in this present moment, as your last hope of keeping yourself from being raped by– you can’t even bring yourself to think it right now. 

It’s far too late. Your heart drops, stomach turning at the sound of his belt unbuckling. McCree yanks your underwear down your thighs just enough to jam his cock inside of you. You wail into his hand, squirm and try to get away from just how much it burns. His girth and length are nowhere near forgiving, and you weren’t lying when you said you weren’t attracted, not in the least. So the first moments of him jackhammering into your resistant pussy are agony. 

The pain is almost welcome. At least in replacement of the nausea that wells up in your throat when you think about just how fucked up your world as just become. You thought things were going so well. Eventually, you woulda got up the courage. You were just too naive to see the underlying darkness that McCree was always carrying around with him. Eventually, you acclimate enough for the pain to mellow out. But his thrusts are still too fast, too deep. 

Jesse has long been beyond giving a shit about your comfort. He’s too lost in the heat his body is producing. How fucking tight you are around his cock. Holding down one of your arms by your wrist. You smell so, damn, good. He always notices how you smell, but right now it’s heightened. Smelling like flowers and sweets, reminding him of an old, old fling he had once when he was young. 

His hand is soaked with your tears. Fevered, hot breath, bellowing against his fingers. McCree’s close to cumming, it’ll just take a few more moments. Just a little bit longer of you taking each cruel snap of his hips against your ass. Of his cock slamming up against your cervix. Stretching your walls apart. Making you keen and sob with every full, deep sheath. 

You start to settle down as his thrusts become more erratic. Sobs settling down into little hiccups. Damn you’re cute, cheeks all rosy and swollen. The string around his heart still tugging at the sight of you underneath him, seems it didn’t completely snap after all. He sits up, still holding your wrist to the bed, his hold around your mouth tightening as he cums. Buries himself inside of you and lets all of himself out, emptying his greedy cock, getting his satisfaction.  

Jesse’s feeling guilty for being so rough. Especially without any foreplay, but he just wanted you so bad, and nothing else mattered. You must understand, and he’s sure that if he’s sweet enough you’ll forgive him. He kisses your temple, down along your jawline and into your neck. “See how much I love you, Sweet Pea?” 

You shake your head from side to side,  _still_ trying to reject him. You look up at him, soft eyes turned into daggers. Finally, he releases your mouth. Sits up, pulling out of you in the process. Puts his dick away. Shakes his head in disbelief. “Any damn person would be lucky to have me, Sweet Heart.” He scoffs at himself, momentarily having forgotten about needing to be sweet. Corrects himself, “I’ll make it up to you, Baby.” 

Still, you shake your head. Pulling up your underwear with shaky hands. Sobbing openly and unrestrained. “You got anything to say for yourself?” He asks, leaning forward, as you’re crawling across the bed in order to get out from under him. “Don’t you see what’cha do to me?” 

All of a sudden you get up onto your knees, rear your hand back and throw your whole body into smacking him across his face. The hit hurting your own hand more than it hurt him. “I’m your  _daughter_!” You spit at him, finally getting out what you’ve been aching to tell him from the moment you stepped foot into watchpoint. 

Anticipating his next bout of words you sob, “Ask the manager’a records if you don’t believe me.” 

You crawl off of the bed, nearly collapsing onto the floor but managed to gather your barrings. Sniffle and wipe away snot and tears with the back of your hand. McCree’s too in shock to stop you as you start to walk away. Trying to process the new hitch thrown into your relationship. You limp into the hall where you pick up your heels. That won’t do, he can’t just let you walk out that door. “Get back here so we can talk.” 

“Just ask to see my birth certificate–” you sob and stamp your foot when you fail to get your shoe on. Arms too shaky, body too weak for coordination. “They’ll show you.”   

“Do not make me get up after you, little girl,” Jesse says lowly. You look to him like a gazelle eyeing a predator in the grass. A dumb animal would have run, but you’re no dumb animal. You drop your heels in defeat, yielding to your father’s authority. Good girl.  


	41. Hanzo x Sister!Reader/Exhibitionism/Slight Somno

Hanzo never ceases to be perplexed by your choices of spots to take a nap. Today you are laid out in the grass of the castle garden. An arm is thrown over your eyes, pretty lips agape. Legs spread a little too wide for a girl wearing a skirt. He supposes it’s not all that strange. The grass is well-taken care off and soft. The sun is comfortably warm today. He has, in fact, caught you in more puzzling places before. 

Hanzo has a lull in his time, and your sleeping form never fails to be inviting. A chance for him to hang out with one of his siblings without the risk of them working his last nerve. So he will take some time to meditate, perhaps lay down with you and gather some rest himself. He takes a seat next to you, sits back on his knees and closes his eyes. Meditation it is then. Concentration coming easy for Hanzo. Well, at least usually. 

You hum and shift next to him. Nothing too out of the blue, too jarring as to break his focus. But then there is more humming. Those hums tapering into moans. Moans turning into sighs. Then a combination of all three, and a wanton, extremely jarring, croon of his name. 

Hanzo opens up one eye to get a look at you. Still asleep, still in the same position he last saw you in. He watches for a moment to see if you might do it again. Taking notice of the rapid rising and falling of your chest. Breasts straining against the tight, button up, and collared shirt you’re adorning today. You must be amidst an explicit dream, or so he’d like to think. 

It is a couple of moments before his patience pays off and you do it again. Lifting your hips this time, ever so slightly off of the ground. Whimpering his name. The corner of his mouth pulls up subtlety, he’s pleased. Wonders if you were already in the thralls of your dream before he got here. Or if his mere presence was enough to lull you into it. He wouldn’t doubt the latter. 

Hanzo leans forward placing a palm down on one side of your head. Hovering over your face. Grazing his thumb over the apples of your cheeks, that are gaining a precious light pink color. He doesn’t care about the timid gazes of gardeners or staff, nor their silent judgment. He carefully lifts your arm from over your eyes, using two fingers enclosed around your wrist. Lets it drop back above your head. Leans in so he can whisper in your ear, “Aneki.”

You whimper in response. Back arching this time, butt pressing into the grass. He says it again, and again. Getting various different responses. All lewd, all wanton. Then he groans. Deep and gravelly, eyeing a gardener as he passes by. Amused that he would even have the nerve to throw a shotty look his way. Hanzo will remember his face, for later.  

“Hanzo… please…” you beg him. He’d very much like to know what exactly you are begging him to do. The educated guess would be letting you cum. What with the way your hips are rolling, and how heavily you’re breathing against his cheekbone it would seem you’re close. 

“Cum, Aneki,” he whispers. Gives you another groan, boarding a growl, knowing exactly what you like to hear. Hanzo palms between your breasts, the fabric warm from your time laying in the Sun. Slowly works his way down your body. Feeling the erratic breathing in your belly as you start to cum.

Just as his fingers are slipping into your underwear, your eyes flutter open. Waking up in the middle of your dream induced orgasm. You’re abundantly wet. Making it easy for Hanzo to rub your clit. Making your awakening intense. You latch onto the fabric of his t-shirt, lift your hips into his hand. Whining and saying his name plain as the bright day now. Burying your face into his neck, teeth clenched and bared against his neck.  

Your head drops back into the grass. Expelling a dramatic sigh of satisfaction. Looking dazed and confused. “That was new,” you say. Your cheeks are already flushed, but the become ruddier as you remember your surroundings. Gasping as you place both of your hands over your face. 

“Sweet dreams?” Hanzo asks. 

You ignore his question. Rolling your eyes as you drag your hands down your face. Nodding at one of the staff as they walk by, while he still has his hand under your skirt. 

“Every time you guys do something like this, the staff refuses to look at me for  _weeks_.” 

Hanzo shrugs. Slips two fingers inside of you just to prove a point. Your eyes rolling back at the sudden intrusion. “Hardly a thing to lament over.” 


	42. Sojiro x Sister!Reader/BDSM

“Tell me, how does it feel,” Sojiro whispers into your ear. His hands traveling from your clavicles, stopping to grope your breasts. Continuing down the length of your naked belly. Fingers hooking into the crevasses of your thighs, pulling them apart from eachother, “To be completely at your Papa’s mercy?”

You can’t see him. One: because he’s directly behind your person. And two: because your Papa’s tie is wrapped and knotted securely at the base of your neck. Arms held tightly, and together in ropes above your head. He’s still dressed, the buttons of his dress shirt pressed up against your spine. The metal of his belt buckle against the small of your back. Cold, sending shivers and goosebumps all along your skin. His breath ghosting across the lobe of your ear, awaiting an answer. 

“Feels right,” you say. Gyrating your ass back against his crotch. “As I should be.” 

“Good answer, but you forgot to say, Sir.” He swats the inside of your thigh, just below your crotch. Grips painfully tight. Tight enough to make you writhe, your hips pushing back into him again and again, as if you’re milking his cock. 

Then he leaves, silently moving around the room. Making you feel jittery and nervous about what’s going to happen next. Squirming and whimpering simply from the anticipation. Suddenly a plastic, bulbous shaped head is pressed against your mound. Switched on, without any warning. The low vibrations feeling like instant heaven. Sojiro leans into it, the pressure firm and constant as it slides down over your clit, to find a home nestled between your folds.   

“I am going to do this ‘til you are on the very, very edge. And I am not going to stop. Do you understand, Musume?”    

“Mmhmm.” 

“Mmhm?” Sojiro mocks you. “What did we just talk about?” 

You grin like the vixen you are. Your chin dropping to your chest. Trying to act bashful, like you didn’t remember. “I mean, yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” Cocky, for right now. 

Heavenly sensations soon turn into heavenly torture. Sojiro pulls the vibrator away. Allowing for a long enough pause for you to settle down. Bringing it back to work you onto the edge, only to deny you release again. 

You get to that edge so many times, that your whole body becomes overtly alert. Aware of every little noise. Every chuckle, and huff of breath that Papa makes. He’s given and taken away your stimulation so many times, “Twenty-six” to be exact, Sojiro’s keeping count. You’re so sensitive that he can only press the toy to your clit for a short moment before your ready to cum, and he has to take it away.    

You want it bad. You need it, you  _have_ to cum, but Sojiro still won’t let you. Your pussy swollen and heavy, sexually charged and desperate to be pushed beyond the point of no return. The next minute bit of vibrations are on high. Taking you by complete surprise. You squeal and kick away. Losing your footing for a moment, hanging pitifully by your arms.  

“Hmm, I will have to secure those legs next time.”  

He hadn’t physically touched you for what’s felt like an hour. Sojiro’s sudden hand on your hip, readjusting your position makes you yelp. He presses his hip to your own, pushes the vibrator up against your hole. It’s not on, but it’s still enough to make you beg. “Oh, please, Sir. Please, make me cum, please..”   

Papa leans in so he can kiss your neck. Quickly turns the vibrator on and then off again.  _Click, click._  “I’m thinking about it. You did beg nicely.” He does it again.  _Click, click._  Your whole body lurching at the brief second of vibration. Stomach pulling in taught, letting out a whimper so desperate it sounds like a sob. But that’s not quite good enough. Papa is after something else, a different reaction. 

He keeps teasing you. Turning it off and on, off and on. Keeping a hand full of your ass snug in his palm. As to keep you from going anywhere. The longer you don’t give him the reaction he’s after the longer your torture will continue. He’ll stay here ‘til every last muscle in your body is taught, and your cunt is leaking slick all over the toy. Sojiro won’t be spelling it out for you. He doesn’t want an act, he wants every reaction you give to be raw. 

Finally, you break, truly break. Arms shaking your binds. Feet stomping on the ground as much as your leverage will allow. Growling, and cursing under your breath. Wiggling, trying to get yourself through the convulsions being constantly on the edge is giving you. Swiftly gyrating your hips on the toy before he takes it away. Desperate enough to try and take your pleasure, despite him not having given permission to do so.  

“ _God_ , Papa, please!” 

“Papa?” Sojiro says feining confusion. 

“Sir! I meant Sir! Please, please I wanna cum..” your begging tapering off into whimpers. Not knowing whether or not if your slip up earned you extra time of agony. There are actual tears in your eyes, you’re so sensitive your sure to cum, regardless of permission, with the next bout of vibration no matter how small it is. 

Sojiro can’t let a slip up go unpunished but is aware he pushed you past your breaking point. So he punishes you by using time. Prolongs your wait just a little bit longer by demanding, “Open your mouth.” Sojiro using your teeth as a  placeholder for your torture device. So he can have a free hand to play around with his little girl’s pussy. 

He does this so he can lean back and admire how crimson your lips are. Tracing his fingers along your folds, gathering the slick and cream that seeped out of your body. Your toes curling at all of his simple proddings. Rubbing the mess off onto the insides of your thighs. Leaving trails of glisten and shine. 

“Since you’ve been such a good girl,” Sojiro says placing his thumb over your engorged clit. Gives it one, firm, but slow circle, “I’ll let you choose how you cum. So what will it be?” 

He’s still focused on the ruddy color of your skin. All the little twitches, and clenching of your hole. Becomes a little frustrated when you don’t answer. He’s gifting you the freedom of choice. Papa spanks your clit and demands, “Answer before I prolong this even more.”  

Immediately you whine, long and desperately. Shaking your head back and forth wildly, because you can’t answer with the wand still wedged between your teeth. “Oh.” He gingerly takes the device from between your teeth. “Forgive me, my head was somewhere else.” 

You’re not bothered by his diminutive slight. “I wanna cum on your cock, P–  _Sir._ ” You throw your head back and laugh a bit maniacally. You almost slipped up  _again_. “Sir, please fuck me.” 

Sojiro’s belt jingles and clinks together as he undoes it. The leather hissing through the loops as he pulls it out. Connects the two ends together in his fist, creating a loop that he runs across your tummy. Gliding it around your hips and over your ass. “I hope you are aware, that just because you cum, doesn’t mean that I am done with you.” 

“I’m aware, Sir.” 

Papa places one hand over your mound, guiding you back. You arch your back eager to receive him. The sound of his zipper is damn near musical to your ears. You’re incredibly loud when he enters you. It’s immediately too much, and his pace is quick right out the gate. He’s not wasting any time giving his good little girl what she’s earned. Rubbing your clit with the very tips of his fingers, while he’s relentlessly slamming his cock into you. 

“S-Sir, may I cum?!” 

“Cum.” 

You cum so hard that you lose your ability to yell or moan. Nothing but a high pitched squeak coming from your open mouth. Eyes shut tight even though they are still shrouded behind a silk tie. Legs bending back, toes curling. Pussy fluttering rapidly around your Papa’s cock. Sojiro keeping you right where you need to be. One strong hand over your mound, the other digging into the meat of your thigh. Fucking you well beyond your orgasm, but not quite long enough to bring himself to his own edge. 

“Mmmm, thank you, Sir.” 

Papa runs his fingers down the length of your quivering spine. “Good girl, minding your manners, are you ready for phase two?” 


	43. Yandere!MamaMercy X Daughter!Mercy/ Masturbation

“Oh, sweetie, don’t hide from me,” Angela coos. Her fingers tickling at the crevasse between your clamped thighs. “What you were doing is perfectly normal.” 

Her reassurance isn’t quite enough to pry your face out from the sheets. You’re well aware of the lilt in her voice that says “but.” Your mother being an expert at lulling you into a false sense of emotional security. You’re not quite ready to look her in the eyes yet to find the truth. 

Angela kisses the portion of your cheek she can get to. Breathing lightly over your cheekbone. Even for all of the tension your mother instills in your body, she always smells like the most relaxing scents. Her breath a sweet peppermint, the perfume on her neck lavender. 

“Sweetie, you’re hurting your Mama’s feelings.” Another light kiss coupled with a particularly aggressive shove of her fingers. “You know you can talk to your Mother about anything.”

Gathering courage, you crane your neck and face your mother. “I don’t understand, Mama.”  

Angela looks down towards your crotch, where her hand is nestled between two resistant thighs. Her head tilting ever-so-slightly to the side. Your eyes water at the simple movement, it’s your mother’s tell for when she is right on the edge of her patience. 

“Well, clearly, you didn’t know what you were doing, Baby.”  

“Oh.” You breathe out. “I’m sorry.” 

She smiles. Perfect teeth and a lovely stretch of her lips showing off all of her angelic properties. The Angela every one outside of your room gets to have on a daily basis. “You have nothing to be sorry for!” She sits up, de-wedging her hand from between your legs. “Up,” she demands, deadpan.   

You carefully push yourself up. No motions you make too sudden or too rushed. You’ve learned not to move too fast around a lioness who is always on the lookout for any mistakes her prey makes. Angela sits back against your headboard and spreads her legs. The lovely silk of her short nightgown riding up to her hips. There it is, the tiny pull in your abdomen. The thing you swear is going to disappear. Just fade away. Fleeting like time and smoke. 

Instead, it stays. Heavy like a stone monument. As grand and attention consuming as monuments can be, in your mind’s eye. Your mother pays no attention to the gawking you’re doing. The way you stare at the intricate lace of her underwear. Or when you lick your lips and whimper. She simply pats the bed, rubs her hand around in circles. “Come sit, Sweetie.” 

Eventually, you make it to your destination. Lay your back against her chest, momentarily relaxing. Before you have the chance to tense up, Mercy hooks her feet on the sides of your ankles and slides your legs apart. Your hands fly up to her knees with a gasp. Being exposed in front of your mother is nothing new, but sudden movements always make you squirm. 

“First off,” she says, sliding her hand down the length of your belly. Over your mound. Gliding one finger between the folds of your exposed pussy. “You need more lubrication than this.” 

She brings that hand back up to your mouth. “Spit.” You comply without any hesitation what so ever. Mercy rewarding you with a kiss on your shoulder and a quiet, “That’s my good baby.”  

This time she slides three fingers cradling your saliva over your clit, then in between your lips. Already the sensation is a lot for you. Goosebumps raising all along the baby hairs on your thighs. Making the hair on your arms stand up. Your eyes falling closed. Head leaning back against your Mama’s shoulder. 

Angela rests her mouth against your ear. Whispers, “You need to pay attention, Sweetie.”   

You open up your eyes but keep your head where it’s at. Watch as she runs her fingers along the fatty flesh around your folds. Lazily glides her thumb, up and down over your clit. “Just because you’re masturbating doesn’t mean you can’t tease yourself.” Her free hand slips under your nightshirt. Grips your breast. Massaging and squeezing gently at your nipple. “Or that you should ignore your breasts.”  

Angela’s got the softest most well-taken care off hands. With daft and skilled fingers. No matter how much you follow her skincare routine, right down to the letter, you can never reach her level of luxuriousness. She kisses your shoulder, the slightest bit of tongue leaving moisture on your skin. Lips even softer than her hands. “See? Doesn’t this already feel better? Look at how red you’re becoming.” 

“Yes,” you answer simply. You certainly can see. The skin around your cunt becoming a deep shade of red the more your mother teases. Angela, slipping a finger back between your lips. Tracing your hole with the pad of her finger. Only putting the lightest amount of pressure, not quite breaching into the soft velvet of your insides. 

“You should be romantic with yourself before you’re rude.” Her focus changing to your clit and clit alone. Three fingers putting light pressure, rubbing small, steady circles. Her grip on your breast growing tighter and tighter, the more her fingers pick up speed. You bite your lip with a mousy whine, can’t help but lift your hips. The pressure building quickly, demanding to be released. 

“And when you’re right on the edge, you give yourself a swift push.” All of a sudden Angela is massaging your nub fervently. Her grip on your breast dancing right on the fringe of painful. For a moment you forget about all of the things that give you stress. Only able to focus on how good your body feels, how intense your pleasure is. 

“Mama– mama,” you whine as you start to cum. Gripping the bone of her knees tightly for support. Toes curling, thighs shaking against her own. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember that you’re supposed to be keeping your eyes open. But at this point, it doesn’t feel like you have much control over the matter. 

Instead of an expected chiding, you receive praise. “That’s a good baby. Relax, just let go of all that tension, it’s bad for the body.”  

You know that there are no consequences for being loud, not here. So you unabashedly let out all of your moans. Loud moans tapering off into soft whimpers. A single whimper, with a sigh, as you melt back into your mother’s body. 

Angela hooks finger under your chin, the scent of your own slick permeating your nose. Uses it to turn your head so that you are looking her in the eye. “Was that helpful, Sweetie?” 

“Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama.”


	44. Jack x Morrison!Sister/Feederism

Jack tsk, tsk’s; endlessly disapproving of the state his sister had returned to him in. He sets down the last plate of food on the blanket acting as the makeshift living room picket spot that he’s set up for you. So reminiscent of all the living room floor fun that you and your brother used to have back home. Home has long been miles and miles away, but the scent of it is just to your left and smells utterly mouthwatering. 

“String beans,” he teases. Poking at the middles of your arms, then at the middles of your thighs. “Bean poles.” 

You blush and swat his hand away. Stress and years away from good, fatty, midwestern food caused you to lose an inordinate amount of weight. Once you and your brother had gotten past your initial reunion, he started lamenting about all of those soft curves that have left your body. How much he misses them. Begging you to let him fatten you up a little bit… just a little bit. 

Jack spreads your legs so that he can sit in between them. Gingerly takes a hold of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head. He wants to watch your belly as it grows bigger and bigger with each new fork full of food he feeds you. He leans over to grab the first plate of hot, creamy, and carb loaded foods. An assortment of dishes all hailing from your home state. The stuff you grew up with, being fed to you by the person who makes you feel at home. 

You let your mouth drop open as Jack brings the first fork full to your lips. The corners of his lips pull up in a soft smile, very pleased, as you moan and swallow down the first bit. Giggling you cover up your mouth with a hand because that was completely genuine, and a little embarrassing. It really has been that long since you’ve had real, tummy warming comfort food. “ _Damn_ , that’s good. When’d you learn how to cook?”

“A soldier’s gotta have his hobbies or he goes insane,” he says as he feeds you a heaping forkful. “You should see me cook with on a grill. I’ve been told it’s impressive.” 

“I’d love to see that,” you say, words muffled by a mouth full of food. No chiding for chewing with your mouth open here. Your brother thinks it’s too cute to put a stop to.

Three plates later, and you’re moving onto dessert. Your cheeks all flushed red from how flustered you’ve become. You’re just so full, not so sure that you could take down another bite. Your stomach has a nice round shape from the food baby you’ve gained. You’re so sure that another bite might actually make your belly burst. But your brother insists that you at least give taking one bite a try. 

You agree to it because you’re determined. And that piece of fudge cake does look irresistible. Chocolate cake’s nothing special, but you know it’s your Mama’s recipe, so that  _is_  one special piece of cake. 

This time when Jack feeds you he misses the mark and accidentally gets some of the frosting on your upper lip and nose. After he tries again, this time laying the cake gently on your tongue, he leans forward and kisses the frosting from your lip and nose. 

“Mmmm, just like mom used to make.” 

“More?” 

“No!” You whine, place your hand over your belly. “No more, please.” 

Jack concedes, setting the plate back down on the blanket. Places a hand on your belly, presses hard enough to warrant a groan from you. He is absolutely pleased with himself. At this rate, you’ll be gaining your soft curves back in no time. “Are you sure you don’t have room for a little bit more?” Jack asks, while his free hand feels up his bulge through his jeans. 

You giggle, softy, eyeing his hand. Then lean back with a lip tucked between your teeth, arching your back so that your belly bulge is accentuated. “Now that I think about, yeah, I do.” 


	45. Sojiro x Sister!Reader/SFW/Rejection

Sojiro is trying to figure out why his darling daughter is so sullen. Pouting, quiet. Carrying around a big hulking beast of self-pity on your back. If one of his sons won’t take up the responsibility of helping you lift it off of your back then he will have to do it. He finds you in meditation. Able to read quickly that you’re not anywhere near a calm or quiet mind.  

As he’s taking a seat in front his daughter, your eyes flutter open. Dark eyelashes, framing eyes that sometimes he could swear you had plucked straight from your late mother’s face. You give him a small smile, with a little bow. “Hello, Papa.” 

“Musume,” he says. Giving you back a bow. “I think it’s time you let me know what’s been weighing you down.” 

Your gaze plummets to the ground. Hands nervously gripping one another in your lap. “I–” He catches sight of the lie rolling around in your head; is proud when you don’t let it get away from you. You sigh heavily, but hold your head up when you look at him and say, “It’s embarrassing, Papa.”  

“A matter of pride?” 

The swells of your cheekbones flush with pink. “Yes, well… and a matter of the heart.” ‘Heart’ had the slightest crack in your voice. A loud gulp as you swallow down the tears glassing up your eyes. 

“Come now. Out with it,” Sojiro commands gently but leaving no more room for dancing around the subject. 

Finally, Sojiro has a face for the beast weighing his daughter down. A  _guard._ You had fallen into a schoolgirl crush, and the guard did not return your feelings. 

Sojiro focuses on his breathing while listening, relaxes his face. Makes sure to give off an air of gross curiosity. Rather than an air of heat consuming jealousy. His jaw grinding with every bit of praise you grace this guard who has broken your heart. 

Lamenting about how it hurts to see him on your daily routes. The very reason you started falling for him in the first place. He’s always there. You’ve had many conversations with him. He was always nice to you. Talked to you like a human being, not everyone does that. But when you told him of your feelings, he did not return them. 

That you would ever think a guard would be anywhere near good enough for you is troubling. You, a dragon getting upset over a skittering lizard. “You deserve far better than the affections of some guard.” He cut you off mid-sentence. He did not mean to do that. Having let his emotions get the better of him.

“You may believe that, but that doesn’t change how I feel, Papa.” Hanging your head, you shrug. “I wish it could change them.”   

Sojiro begrudgingly concedes. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” His words can determine the fates of hundreds of people, makes obscene amounts of money. Change the very economy of Japan all within seconds. But he can’t change the romantic feelings his daughter has– or can he?

It isn’t within his personality to give up so quickly. Sojiro reaches out and takes one of your entangled hands in his own. “You are young, gifted, and powerful. A Shimada.” He brings your hand to his lips, “These feelings will pass. There will be another. One who is worthy of you.” 

The pink in your cheeks turns ruby red as he places a long-planted kiss on your knuckles. Unconsciously tugging your skirt further down your thighs. “Thank you, Papa,” you say with an audible gulp. 

He places your hand back into your lap. “I will have the guard’s route changed, would that makes things easier for you?” 

You blink rapidly, confused. As if you had forgotten what it was that the two of you were talking about. Sojiro takes note of the swell of pride in his belly but does not let it show on his face. “Musume?” 

“Ah, um, yes. Yes. That would help, thank you.” 

As promised the guard’s route is changed. So effectively that you never actually see him again. Out of sight and out of mind; you forget about him. Heart eventually mended, and the beast lifted off of your back. Now focused only on what’s directly in front of you. These days, more than ever, that’s your Papa. 


	46. Dragon(s)/Genji x Sister!Reader/Dragon Fucking

“Where is your Master?” You inquire of the green and white dragon nuzzling at your thigh. Their subtle golden highlighted scales shimmering as they’re slipping their muzzle up underneath your skirt, almost causing you to trip. “Hey! Watch it.” 

They blow out air, hot and strong against your sex. The dragon gingerly nipping at the crotch of your underwear. Eagerly trying to pull them down. Your cheeks flush with heat. As your trying to shove the creatures head away, you’re seeking out prying eyes that would make this especially embarrassing. 

Nobody is lingering around the onsen. Not many people have reason to, as it’s only here for the family’s use. You’re in the clear. You came here with the intentions of relaxing but were rudely interrupted. Hadn’t even been granted a chance to change out of your clothes yet.  

The dragon manages to get your underwear askew enough to flick their tongue along your folds. The sensation gives you shivers, makes you croon. A strong pang of heat causing your body to jolt and your mouth to drop open. That’s all it takes to change your tune. Falling back against the smooth decorative stone, you give in. So easily persuaded.   

“Alright, alright… just let me–” You say out loud trying to convince them to let you get your underwear down around your ankles. But even when you’re giving the dragon what they’re going after, they still refuse to give you a moment. 

Despite an uncooperative dragon, your underwear drops to your feet. And you’re able to step out and kick the fabric away. Weaving your fingers into their silky sideburns you lean your head back against the rock and just enjoy it. This isn’t how you had intended to let off steam but it’ll do.   

Slick, lengthy, and warm, the dragon’s tongue laps with intention against your lips. Circles your entrance, and then slips inside. The intrusion makes you curse under your breath. Your back lurching up off of the stone. Their tongue moves inside of you in languid waves. The creature’s nose pressed and rubbing against your engorged clit. It’s all a strange but amazing feeling that’s driving you crazy, making you whine with every labored outtake of breath.  

You’re lost in it. Listening to the dragon hum and sing while it’s getting a good long taste of your velvet. Well on your way to cumming when a chuckle breaks through your fog of pleasure. Your eyelids fly open as you lift your head up off of the rock to see Genji standing not too far from the two of you. Arms crossed, with a sly look on his face. “Enjoying yourself, ‘Sis?” 

“Mmm,  _yes_.” A strong pang of pleasure causes your stomach to convulse. You lean forward, only to promptly throw your head back against the rock face again. 

Casually Genji approaches. Leans against the smooth surface and lifts up your skirt. Just watches as his dragon continues to reach it’s tongue further inside of you. Nuzzle and rubs their nose faster against your nub. Eventually moving that hand up and under your shirt. Leaning in so he can nibble, kiss, and groan in your neck. Facilitating your impending climax with just a little more stimulation.  

 _Oh_ , this is it, heaven. Keeping one hand in the dragons sideburns you throw the arm between you and Genji around his shoulder. Grip the hair on top of his head making sure he knows exactly where you want him to stay. Genji gropes your breast applying the perfect amount of pressure. Tugs and pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive bit of flesh between thumb and middle finger.  

It’s not long before you reach your tipping point, and you cum all over the dragon’s tongue. Bucking your hips wildly, unabashedly moaning through it. Suddenly very uncaring if anyone is aware you’re getting eaten out by your brother’s dragon. 

Genji doesn’t care either, though that’s not shocking. When does he give a shit? Encourages more noise by giving you a harsh love bite on the space between your neck and collarbone. Causing you to make the best noise possible: a loud wail of his name.    

Your orgasm has passed but the creature keeps going and so does Genji. Their tongue working your oversensitive walls. Nose, your even more sensitive, ruddy little, clit. You’ll have to beg them to let up. 

“Genji– please call them off–  _please._ ”   

Genji removes his hands from your shirt and lightly pats the dragon on the head. They hum in acknowledgment and carefully retreat their tongue back into their mouth. Back away from you, then shimmy there way into the water of the onsen almost soundlessly. 

You turn your boy towards Genji, sighing blissfully. Ask a question that you already know the answer to. “Did you sick them on me?” 

He grins, the smile of a guilty Anija. Runs his index finger over your pouting lips. “Maybe.” 

The dragon stirs up the water of the onsen, reminding you that you still have every intention of getting in there. You nod towards it, “Join us?” 

Genji’s grin of sly guilt turns into a smile of delight. “Of course.” 


	47. Reaper x Daughter!Reader/Slut Shaming

__

Your daddy can’t ever seem to approach you like a normal human being. Rather, he ghosts in out of nowhere, engulfing you in hardened smoke and tossing you in the nearest briefing room. You can’t see his face, you never can. But you’ve learned over the years how to tell when he’s mad at you. Cowering back against the edge of the meeting room table you ask, “What’d I do now?” 

“Ask me what color your underwear is.” 

Oh. Suddenly you’re feeling a little cocky. All of your teasings worked. You decide to play a little dumb just to keep him nice and irritated. “What?” You question, scrunching your face up in false confusion. 

Reaper’s head cocks to the side. You can just  _feel_ how unimpressed he is by your feigned ignorance. You’re really about to earn it. 

He won’t be repeating himself. So you give him what he wants to hear. “What color’s my underwear, Daddy?” 

A sliver of smoke snakes across the floor towards your foot. Weaves up around your ankle and yanks your leg to the side. “Red,” he says as another tendril of smoke coils itself all the way up your other leg. Sneaks underneath your skirt, and slips into your panties. “Black stitching, lace fabric.” 

Before you have a chance to tell him if he’s right or not, Reaper holds up a gloved hand.  _Be quiet_. “Let’s just  _see_  if I’m right.”

The tendril tugs your underwear down your thighs. It’s no surprise to either of you that he is, in fact, right. 

Your breath quickens, the grips you have on the corner of the table grasping tighter as he approaches you. Muscles in your body taught in anticipation of whats to come next. Just waiting for the moment when he’ll snap and punish his bad little girl. You want it, your body’s simmering for it. Heat boiling under your skin, sending a flush of slick out of your unclothed entrance.  

He leans in close to you. Smelling like spice and the heat that’s radiating off of your skin. “Do you get off on being such a massive tease?” 

“Maybe,” you whisper, licking your lips and sucking on your bottom lip. Letting it drop out of your mouth with a lewd little pop.  

You can hear the long huff of air from behind his mask. Shaking his head as the tendril holding your underwear yanks them down to your ankles. “If you’re going to act like a slut, then you going be treated like one.” 

Suddenly Reaper wraps a thick tendril of smoke around your waist. Spinning you around he slams you down onto the table with a loud thud and a strangled cry from you. The tendril tightens at the small of your back ‘til your ass is arched at just the angle that your Daddy desires to see. 

His belt jingles as he frees his flushed length. Growling, adrenaline pumping, from the sight of his slutty daughter’s sex presented to him, framed by the offending short skirt that you’ve been bending over in all damn day. 

Cock in palm he leans forward. Pushes into your slick warmth. Sinks all the way in. Smooth and swift, all the way to the hilt. Your feet lift up off of the ground, kicking around a little. Back arching even more from the stretch and the reach. 

Reaper gives you one harsh thrust. Jostling the table. Slamming your hips into the harsh edge. You mewl and whine at the sensation of feeling so filled up so suddenly. Your Daddy’s fat mushroom head putting sweet agonizing pressure against your cervix. 

“Crooning for your Daddy’s cock,”  He growls, bringing his hips back and slamming them into you again, “You’re a special kinda whore, Nena.”

Reaper picks up his pace. Every thrust creating a slapping sound against your bare ass. Hitting you harshly and deeply with every snap of his hips. Fast paced and grueling. The table almost doesn’t sound like it’s going to be able to survive it, and truthfully neither do you. Unabashedly letting out every wail and whine of your Daddy’s name. 

You try grasping onto something. Anything as he plows into you over and over again. But the surface of the table is smooth and doesn’t allow you anything to fill your greedy hands with. Reaper sees your plight and remedies it by yanking you up off the table, using his hold around your waist. Your back collides with his chest. He holds you there fucking into you. Allowing you to be able to reach back and gather hand fulls of his coat.  

Your ears prick up at the wet, slick sounds of your daddy pumping into you. You’re so wet that even over all of the deep, bassy groans from Reaper and the whines from your gaping mouth, you can still hear them good and well. 

All of your coiled pressure in your belly is spring loaded and ready to unravel you just need it a little bit “Harder,” you beg. 

“What was that, little slut?” 

The richness and threat in his voice are near enough to send you over the edge. But not quite. You groan bucking back into him. Trying to meet his thrusts with your own sporadic rolls of your hips. “Harder, Daddy!” 

Reaper throws an arm up. Wrapping a gloved, clawed hand around your neck. Forcing your head back against his shoulder so he can take a good look at his tease of a little girl while he fucks her hard enough to make her scream from cumming. You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you hardly notice the final thrust that spurts thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside of you. Or the deep, throaty growls that accompany Reaper’s climax. 

Reaper lowers your shaking legs back down onto the floor. Toes barely touching the smooth surface before you’re falling forward to cling to the table for balance. He lets his stiff member slip out of you. Cloudy white mess flooding from your throbbing, clenching hole. 

He brings the hand around your neck up to cover your eyes. Metal talons resting alongside your temple. A brief moment later, his flesh and blood lips press to your own. Giving you a deep and longful kiss. He pulls away saying, “Go ahead and keep testing my patience, Nena.” 

You grin. Rub your butt along his pant leg knowing full well you’re getting some of his mess on his pitch black pants. “That’s my job, Daddy.” 

 


	48. Genji x Sister!Reader/Pregnancy (SFW)

Genji’s got a pit in his stomach the size of a basketball. Crouched down in front of his little sister just trying to get her to look at him. You’ve been crying for over ten minutes. Shaking, with your own hands in your hair. Head buried in between your knees and your chest. Sobbing so much that you choke on your own breath. 

It’s not like this is the first time Genji’s seen his Aneki cry. This isn’t even the hardest he’s ever seen you sob. He has unfortunately seen worse. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you be so distraught, and refuse to voice why. Something terrible must have happened. His face is flushed. Heart racing. Sweat drenching his underarms, his leg bouncing. 

“Come on, ‘Sis,” he says as he reaches out for one of your hands. You allow him to hold one of them, and he rubs a comforting thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “You are scaring the hell out of me.” 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you sob. That’s not much but it makes Genji’s heart swell. At least it’s something. A start. 

He laughs nervously. Applies a little bit of pressure to your hand. “You are gonna tell your brother what’s wrong, that’s what you are gonna do–  _please,_  tell me what’s wrong?” 

You look up at him, eyes bloodshot and glassy. Cheeks a radiating bright red. Shaking your head from side to side you say, “I can’t.”  

That takes Genji aback. Stirs offense in his stomach. Since when  _can’t_  you tell him something? He and you are beyond close. Closer than close. When you’re in each other’s beds every night that you possibly can be. Sharing thoughts just as much as you share each other’s bodies. 

When you let your head fall back between your knees he shakes your hand and states, “Hey. Yes, you  _can_.”  

You peek up at him through flooded lashes. “Promise you won’t bolt?” 

“B-bolt?” Genji drops down to his knees. Sits back on his legs, and plops both his hands down into his lap in defeat. “Do I need to start guessing?” 

“Genji…” 

“Did you kill somebody? Did you piss someone important off? Did somebody assault you? Are the elders marrying you off? Did you  _witness_ a murder? Are–”

No, no, no, no, and no. “Genji!” He shuts his mouth and waits. Waits while your stance opens up. Your knees falling away from eachother, your arms opening up wide in a motion of “well, here it goes.” 

“Genji, I’m pregnant.” You nod your head up and down. “ _Pregnant_.” 

“Oh. Is that it?” 

“Excuse you!  _Is that it?”_ You sit up just so you can shove him against his shoulder. _“_ If I could take those words and shove them up your ass, I would.” 

Genji snatches up that hand and holds it in his lap. Gives you his most charming smile, and even in this state, you melt. A few more tears roll down your cheeks before your body uncoils. He apologizes, just one sincere, “I’m sorry” and you’re not so mad anymore. 

“Genji, I love you, but this is bad.” 

That’s when you start going on and on about all the worst-case scenarios. What if they make you get rid of it? What is there’s no other choice but to get rid of it? What if they figure out who the father is? What if they excommunicate you for this? What if the elders  _kill_  you for this? 

You’re supposed to be the clan’s good little girl. And they’ve been so on edge ever since your Papa died. The vibe around the castle is frightening. If this was an ideal situation, you’d marry him and keep the baby. Falling head over heels in love with your brother has never been ideal. Will never be ideal. 

Genji’s gaze falls to your belly. He’s imagining the growth, what the little one inside will look like, what you are going to look like by the end of the year. All the changes that will happen during the months that he’s sure are going to fly by in the blink of an eye.  

He’s thinking to himself; if there was ever a time, ever a good enough reason to abandon life as he knows it, it would be now. He’s been hoarding cash for as long as he can remember. Keeping it in the same old shoe box he hid the first handful of coins he had stolen from his father’s pockets as a child. Now packed way past the brim, with wrapped up tight bills and loose coins. 

Genji’s been fighting the urge for as long he can remember as well. The urge to run. To just take himself away from a place; a business; an ideology that has never meant much to him. That he never truly believed in. But he always found a reason to stay. If he’s being truly honest with himself the prominent one was always fear. Fear of the unknown. And of not being able to make it on his own.

And then there was you. The most unexpected reason of them all. His baby sister who kept him in the castle he hates, and in her bed damn near every night. Being passionate kids the two of you just weren’t careful. Now; now, you’re the number one reason he should finally do what he’s been fantasizing about for years and years. It’s time to leave home. 

While Genji was in deep contemplation, you’ve started sobbing again. Lamenting about how childish it is but you deeply wish father was still alive. He’d be mad. Maybe pissed. Might actually yell for once, but he’d protect you. You’re unbelievably scared. At a total loss. What are you going to do? What are you– 

‘”Sis.” Genji interrupts your downward spiral and waits for you to pay attention. When he has it he continues in a hushed whisper, “Let’s go. Me and you, together. We’re adults. The empire doesn’t need us.”    

You roll your eyes and jerk your hand away from him. “Come on, Genji. Be serious for once.”

Then Genji goes off on a tangent. He  _is_  being serious. More serious than he’s ever been in his life. Being a playboy, a fuckboy as you used to call him, got him contacts. Being a charming slut for most of his adult life is finally going to pay off. He’ll call in all the favors. Every single one that is owed to him. He’ll make it work. You just have to trust and believe in him.

“Just  _imagine_  it,” he pleads. He stands up, too full of gusto to stay crouched any longer. “We’ll go somewhere where nobody cares about our last name. I’m not trying to disillusion you. It’ll be hard, maybe downright terrible at times, but we can do it.”

You look away from him, out at the courtyard. Bottom lip trembling, looking truly sorrowful. “There really is nothing else left here for us, is there?” 

Genji shakes his head. He doesn’t quite know how to answer that. Instead, he says, “We can make it, ‘Sis.” 

For the first time since he came upon you, you smile. It’s small, unsure, but it’s a smile none the less. You hold a hand up to him, allowing him to help you to get up onto your feet. Leaning forward you rest your forehead against his chest. Genji just pets your head, rubs your back. Being patient while you contemplate your decision. 

Then you look up at him shaking your head,  _yes._ “Alright,” You say as you steal a quick kiss, “Just tell me when, where, and how. I’ll run away with you, Anija.”


	49. McCreexDaughter!Reader/Riding

God damn your the best sight for sore eyes. Seated on his lap, straddling his hips, rolling in the most gorgeous fleshy waves he’s ever seen. McCree’s in heaven with his baby girl’s nails digging into the muscle of his pecs. Your daddy’s cowboy hat atop of your head, and not a thing covering an inch of the rest of your body. His hat atop the head with closed eyes and a ruddy bottom lip hidden away between your teeth. Using every inch of his length to catch your pleasure. 

Jesse reaches out and wedges his hands between your butt and his hips. Easily lifts you up and drops you back down. “Bounce a little, Baby.” 

Leaning forward, pressing more weight onto his chest you lift your hips with a little bit of his guided help. Shortly slamming them back down again. Breasts bouncing in time with each collide of your ass. You throw your head back, bringing up a hand to keep his hat secured on top of your head. Soft tummy quivering with the first few pangs of your creeping orgasm. 

Jesse wants to send you careening over that edge. So he bends his knees, and plants his feet firmly onto the bed. Holds your hips flush with his and thrusts up into you. Your mouth drops open as you whine, “Oh– fuck, Daddy!” Keeping one hand on his pec the other on his hat as you cum. A vice grip made of the slickest, heat laced, velvet clamping down on his dick.

“That’s it, there you go, get off on me, Baby Girl.” 

Riding him hard, you exclaim his name over and over, ‘til your thighs are done quaking, and you’ve settled into just letting him buck his hips into you ‘til he catches up with his own pleasure. Though he feels perfectly content to keep himself on the edge, just so can keep watching and listening to your body react to every harsh snap of his hips. 

McCree can never get enough of his darling, little angel. The jiggle of your body, all the pleading whines. How eager and desperate you always are to stuff yourself full of him. His little girl never unwilling to be there for her Pop in every way possible. Knowing you’d be happy to take him into your body every day, all day, however, is enough to send him over the edge he was teetering on. 

Jesse groans deep and long through clenched teeth. Digs his fingers into your hips. “Ah– God, damn it– Darlin’,” He growls throwing his head back against the pillow beneath his head but keeps his eyes locked on you, “Baby girl– look at me.”

You do as he’s pleaded that you do. Luscious locks bouncing up and down on your shoulders. Tilting your chin forward, prying open your eyes so he can get a gander at them as his cock expands, and ribbons of cum spurt up into your body. Then you smile bitting back down on your lower lip, pinching the brim of his hat between thumb and index finger, creating the prettiest picture.  

As Jesse’s coming down from his flood of endorphins he lets his legs relax and throws his arms back behind his head. Simply lays back and watches while you continue to roll your hips and slightly lift your butt up and down. Trying to milk every last bit of what he’s got. Still humming and breathing heavily. 

Eventually, he’ll pull you forward. Lock you against his chest with two strong arms. Cuddle you ‘til he’s ready to roll you over and give you more, or maybe he’ll wait ‘til you whisper in his ear, begging him to keep you feeling full. Until then he’ll just be lazy and enjoy watching the best thing that’s ever happened to him ride him like a seasoned cowgirl. 


	50. McCreexDaughter!Reader/Exhibitionism/Voyeurism/Pregnancy kink

McCree hardly had a good enough reason to call this meeting to order. Other than he wanted to make each of these thugs sit down and watch him show off his pregnant daughter. His beautiful, glowing, and plump little girl. His baby all soft and swollen from being pumped full of him day after day, and night after night. And that’s good enough, after all, he’s the King of this castle. 

He loves simply watching you waltz towards him in your cute, frilly little sundress, that barely fits you proper anymore. Big round belly, making the dress shorter than it normally is. Breasts free as none of your bras fit you anymore, and you’re too lazy to bother to try and get yourself new ones. Tiny dark circles staining the fabric where your milky tits have leaked. 

He snakes his hand up under your dress as you take your place in front of him. Pleased to find that you have forgone underwear entirely. Kneads the plush meat of your ass as he slowly undoes his belt buckle. Pulls out his dick letting it plop down against his stomach. 

McCree pats his thigh, “Saddle up, Darlin’.” 

He cups his cock around the base, holds it forward, perfectly angled for you to spear yourself on. Turning around you lift up your dress. McCree melts deeper into his own seat at the side of your plump backside. One cheek all red from his groping. Five embedded, flowered fingerprints. What a sight. 

Splaying your legs on either side of his knees, you carefully you lower yourself down. Jesse guiding you with one hand on your hip. You’ve become so much more sensitive with the growth of your belly. Moaning longfully as his length sinks into your sopping heat, inch after inch after inch after– A shiver careening up your spine accompanied by a mousy little whimper. 

You get settled in. Laying back against his chest, throwing an arm around his neck. Twisting your torso just enough for him to get a face full of those bursting breasts.

“That’s my good girl,” he croons.  

The first thing he does is free them, get them out in the open with one rough tug of the fabric just below your chest. It’s so loose and flimsy that it settles easily just under your tits. Next, he places a hand under that belly that he’s so proud of. A belly that makes his dick swell bigger with a new rush of blood.  

His little girl who was conceived and grew from the same cum that he’s filled you with time and time again. He growls at the thought, lifts his hips to start pumping himself in and out of your cozy little pussy. A pang of heat in his core so strong and demanding it makes him feel dizzy; Lord, does he live for this shit.  

The men he’s gathered to be the voyeurs of the sick show he loves to put on? All of them should consider themselves privileged; gifted, to get a live, in the flesh show such as this. And should be grateful that he doesn’t mind that they get off to it right in front of him. Some being so bold as to sit back and stroke their cocks lazily and without any shame. 

McCree latches onto the nipple directly in front of his face, suckles the milk and swallows it down. Gropes your other breast, squeezing liquid gold out, making a mess of the front of your dress. You, continuously loud with all of your ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ah’s.’ Like he’s got you bent over that meeting table trying to pound his dick into your guts. They should be so lucky to hear what  _that’s_  like these days.  

Nows not the time for hard and fast completion. Nows the time to thrust into you nice and slow, and make his loyal Deadlock thugs answer questions, and speak on bullshit while he’s fucking his baby girl. Make the ones jerking off speak specifically, so he can hear them struggle to answer. 

McCree removes his mouth from your delicious nipple for a moment so he can kiss you with a mouth full of your own milk. So you get a taste of how sweet you are. Whispers to you a little bit of praise. Nothing you haven’t heard over and over again. “You’re perfect, Baby. Ain’t nothin’ around better than you and this body, ya hear?”

You nod, “Yeah, Daddy.” Words all breathy and hushed, barely audible and only heard by him. 

He looks to the voyeurs, “And your all mine. Ain’t that right? I wanna hear ya say it, Baby,” He thrusts up into you roughly, making you cry out, “Let your Daddy hear it.” 

“I’m yours, Daddy,” You mash your mouth against his own, humming and groaning, “All yours.”  


	51. SojiroxSister!Reader/Masturbation

Sojiro hovers over your sleeping form. Just taking a small moment to a be a father watching his little girl relaxed and at peace. All laid out on the smooth wooden bench of the sauna. On your stomach, face buried in your arms. Fast, fast asleep. Shoulders lifting and falling with your heavy sleeping breaths. The towel you have wrapped around your body just barely long enough to cover your butt. 

Sojiro rolls his head to the side. No need to crane his neck or move his body much to see that you’re not wearing a bathing suit under the luxurious cotton. He sighs at the sight of your bare cheeks and bare sex. Brain instantaneously switching gears. It’s beautiful and tempting, framed by glowing dewy thighs. But Sojiro won’t allow himself to have it. No matter how persistent his primal needs might demand that he take it.  

He’s grateful for your random sleeping habits. His daughter unknowingly giving him the fix he needs to keep himself from putting his hands on you. Though in his head you are always happy to accept them. Crooning, blushing and begging for your Papa’s blasphemous affections. The thought causing his own body to bring far more heat to his skin than what the sauna is providing. A whole bout of it his rushing into his crotch, raising the fabric of his own towel. 

There’s always an element of ‘I wish you would’ when he’s watching you sleep with his erect length in his palm. He wishes you would wake up and see him stroking his cock. Wishes you’d wake just as he’s spurting thick ropes of cum that just barely miss your body. Wishes you would see the way his face contorts when he’s thinking about your pretty slack lips wrapped around his shaft.  

But no matter how much the urge to be excessively loud, the thing that would bring his wishes to fruition, might boil in his belly he never gives into it. If it happens, then it happens. It’s up to fate to make you realize just how depraved you make your Papa feel. All the deviant things that you make him do, how much of a creep you turn him into. It needs to be natural. The element of surprise, pure and real.

This time, however, he’ll allow himself a little bit more than just what he’s walked in on. Sojiro bends over just to hover his hand less than an inch over your face. Moves it all the way down your body, never touching. Only allowing himself some contact of the towel’s edge just so he can lift it up and get a better look at his number one fantasy. 

Then he stands back up and reaches beneath his towel. Encloses his girth in his fist, and pumps long and languidly. He’s never in a rush, this is normal. Quiet, save from the heavy breathing that comes along the more he strokes and gazes at the pink space between your legs. He talks to you in his mind, telling you what to do, letting you know how much heat you fill your Papa with.  

When Sojrio starts to cum he imagines what it might sound like to hear you cum with him. He’s yet to catch you doing anything. Has yet to overhear you, or catch you letting some boy into your virgin flower. You’re such a good girl. Or at the very least are expert at hiding all of the things you do to satiate your sexual desires. Or, perhaps you’re just quite. Quite like he is. With what must be the most gorgeous pleasure face.   

His eyes shut for the moment that he’s cumming. Making a mess on the inside of his towel. In his mind’s eye when he opens them back up you’ve awoken in that brief moment. Are looking up at him with big, bright, and horrified eyes. But that’s not his reality when he opens them. You’re still fast asleep. Still blissfully unaware. 

Sojiro nearly forgets to move your towel back the way it was before waking you. Scolding himself with a heavy exasperated sigh. He readjusts your towel with a flick of his wrists. Wakes you with gentle shakes of your shoulders. He’s sure you’re late for something, you never fail to oversleep. You wake with a few soft grunt and a not so soft moan. Threatening to give him a whole new need to apologize for bothering you, and tell you to go back to right back to sleep.  


	52. McCreexDaughter!Reader/Bullies (SFW)

“This here dress’a yours kinda short ain’t it?” The young cowboy to your right asks. Walks up behind you and cranes his neck to look rudely at the underside of your dress. 

Rolling your eyes you toss a hand full of clothes into your basket. Just another day dealing with Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber, as you call them. When you don’t say a thing to them the other young cowboy to your left hums a question, “Ya gonna answer us, girl?” 

Sighing heavily you continue working on getting your laundry out of one of the communal laundry room dryers. It’s no surprise to you that the ill-mannered ingrates caught you isolating yourself and decided to take advantage. Are now flanking you on both sides like wild dogs. 

“Fuck off,” you demand; deadpan.  

They both let off mocking “ _oOOooohs_ “ and cackle at your attempt to get them to leave. They already know you don’t like them. That you don’t want to deal with them; and don’t care. “Simmer down the attitude, girl. We just askin’ a question,” Tweedledumb states in a sing-song manner. Having a good time. 

“Can’t believe your daddy allows you to wear such temptin’ dresses,” Tweedledumber says as he’s getting a little too close for your comfort. Though if you’re being truthful, any distance where you can see or hear them is too fucking close. His presence just next to you is making you so heated with irritation, that your jaw starts to grind. “Don’t he know your just a– a pretty lil’ thing livin’ amongst a bunch’a dirty cowboys?” 

“Don’t’chu remember he’s the  _boss_ a’you dirty cowboys?” You ask, shooting him a look full of daggers.  

Right about now’s the time when you should be trying to get the hell outa dodge. You don’t even wanna bother with the rest of the laundry, cause you know you gotta bend over to get it. They’d just use that as more ammunition to shoot more unwanted attention towards you. Start snickering about how much of a slut you are. It’s only a matter of time.  

Both of the men have closed in on you. With predatory, ignorant stares that make it clear they ain’t anywhere near close to being done tryna push you around. All topped off with shit-eating grins on their faces. Grins attached to big bodies that you just can’t push past without feeling like you might escalate things beyond your control.  

“Maybe you two dummies should reconsider bein’ bullies towards your leader’s daughter.” 

Then Tweedledumber reaches up and places his hand underneath your chin. Skims his fingers along your neck. Whispers, “Maybe McCree should consider keepin’ his good girl on a tighter leash.” 

“McCree seems like a God damn push over to me,” Tweedledumb says as he goes to shove his hand under your dress, “I’m thinkin’ he wouldn’t mind us messin’ with ya a little bit.” 

Tweedledumb and dumber are too busy putting their hands on you to notice your pop walk through the door. Curiously Jesse reads the situation. Gains a full understanding of just how cornered and done you are from a brief glimpse of your face. He flicks his cigarillo to the side. Approaches the scene with his hat pulled down low on his head. 

It’s only when his shadow looms over the three of you that they notice someone has finally caught them in the act. And it’s the worst possible someone that it could have been.   

Cool, calm, and precise Jesse snatches up both of their offending hands. One in each of his own, and bends their fingers back ‘til the digits snap and let off the most unsettling, sickening sets of cracks you’ve ever heard. 

Jesse lets them both go as they start cursing and wailing. Falling to the floor clutching their wrists. With open mouths, they stare at their broken fingers with tears in their eyes. Slamming their feet against the ground tryna fight back the pain. Chests heaving, on the verge of having full-blown panic attacks. 

McCree casually leans back against the washer on the other side of you. Leisurely pulls out another cigarillo from his pocket, along with a lighter. Nudges you with a smirk on his face, and asks, “Was that what you’d call ‘too much’?”

You look down at the boys with a dark stare. You’d been dealing with them for so long that you hardly feel any sympathy. In fact, you don’t feel any at all. Without hesitation, you say, “Na. I thought that was just about right.”  

He nods, pleased that you think so, as he lights up his cigar. Meanwhile, Tweedledumb has started balling, sniffling and trying to wipe away the snot from under his nose with a bare arm. Tweedledumber is vehemently disagreeing with your assessment of their punishment. Via a long string of barely coherent protesting curses. 

“Sometimes a young man has got to learn hard lessons,” Jesse starts up, looking down at his own mechanical arm. As if how he lost that is anything comparable to two sleazy boys harassing a girl. “Them fingers ‘er never gonna feel the same. Their gonna ache on cold nights, and seize up when ya need ‘em to work the most. You’ll remember this for the rest’a your lives.”

“We were jus’ playin’ with her!” Tweedledumb spits through tears. What a bubble-blowing-baby the cocky boy has turned into. The sight tickles you so much you just have to grin. A prickle of pride in your belly, because of all those tears, all that snot, is a direct consequence of messing with you.  

“Playin’?” Jesse questions with a low, threatening growl in his voice. He pushes himself up off of the washer. As he approaches Tweedledumb, the boy scoots back across the floor. Thinking he’s about to get his guts kicked in. You kinda wish your daddy would. “Think makin’ my little girl uncomfortable is fun, boy?” 

“N-n–no, sir.”  

Jesse nods once, just as he thought. Then he gestures towards the door. “You both know where the infirmary is.  _Git_.” 

They both scramble to get up off the ground and then skitter out the door like scolded dogs with their tails between their legs. Jesse watches them go, then turns his attention towards you. Extends his arm, and you automatically, eagerly wedge yourself underneath it. He hugs you close to his chest and rocks you back and forth while he takes a couple of tokes of his cigar. Then he squeezes you so tight you have to groan and complain about it. 

“Next time I want’cha to holler, ya hear?” 

You simply shrug in response. McCree’s dealt with your silence enough to know what it means. You wanted to handle it yourself. He’s too busy. He’s got too much big, important nonsense to deal with. So much he can’t or shouldn’t have to be worrying about your little nonsense. You don’t wanna be too needy, too much of a– 

“Eh!” He shakes your shoulders ‘til you look at him. When you do he says, “My little girl is never a burden on her daddy, understand? Next time, sick your old man on ‘em.”   

“Okay, daddy, I got it.” 

“I gotta real mean bite,” he says, while simultaneously play growling at you. Swings you around like you’re a ragdoll ‘til he gets a good, hardy giggle outa you. After several loud, but hardly adamant protests, McCree lays you back down against the dryer. He leans against it with one arm and places his other on his hip. 

“I’d rip their throats out for ya in a heartbeat. In less then a heartbeat if I could,” he says with the utmost sincerity in his tone of voice and face. 

Maybe it’s not exactly right that a statement like that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. But that one sure did. Leaning forward you give him a quick peck on the cheek. “I know ya would, daddy.” 


	53. SojiroxSister!Reader/Ignoring Kink

It is not often when Sojiro feels he has done wrong. Even now when he’s got a twinge of guilt tugging at the forefront of his brain and the bottom of his heart, he still feels that the argument was justified. Regardless, he is the adult here; your father. So he see’s it as his responsibility to make amends with his darling daughter; who is very upset with him right now.  

He finds you sitting in one of the many studies that the castle houses. One that you wouldn’t normally hang out in; so obvious that you’re trying to hide from him. Not that it deterred him in the least; being who he is he was able to find you fast. Sojiro greets you, and you do not greet him back. Giving your Papa the cold shoulder; what a juvenile way to deal with your problems. 

With a deep, deep hardened frown on your face, you stare intently at the tablet in your hands. Reading something, scrolling lazily through the text. You’re leaning forward just enough to give him the perfect amount of space to wedge himself into. Coming up behind you on the couch he climbs over and slides down gingerly between you and the furniture. 

Letting off an exasperated sigh you try and scoot forward. But Sojiro is quick to wrap two arms around your waist and pull you in flush with his chest. 

Sojiro kisses your cheek, and says into your ear, “My apologies, for my tone of voice earlier.” He pauses, taking a moment to see if there is a change in your facial features. No; no change. Still hard as stone. 

So he continues. Kisses down your neck, bleeding onto your shoulder. “I am, so, very sorry.” He works his way back up your neck as you are still scrolling through your literature. Get’s back to your ear where he whispers, “Did I chase my soft little girl away?” 

His hands slide down your midsection. Down and down, in between your legs where he hooks his hands just below your crotch. Kneads the meat of your inner thigh and states, “No, I think she is still here.” 

Already there is a quicker rise and fall of your chest. But you still hold fast to your stubborn retaliation. Sojiro steadily pries your legs out of their Indian style cross. The metal of his wristwatch jingles with the effort it takes from your lack of cooperation. Until finally, they fall over the edge of the couch, both pressed against the undersides of his own.  

Sojiro then reaches under your skirt and grazes his fingers across the fabric of the crotch of your underwear. Kisses your neck a little more passionately, leaving generous amounts of slow, harsh love bites. Even with all of your effort to keep on ignoring him, you can’t keep your belly from convulsing with each one. He hums, pleased that he can both see your bodily reactions and feel your sex clench up, even though your underwear; you can’t wholly ignore him.

Then there’s a soft strangled whimper as he slides his hand into the hem of your underwear. He plays around a little bit, lightly petting your folds with the very tips of his fingers. You’re already wet; each graze spreading your juices across your sex. You’re trying to pull away from his teasing touches, only to gyrate your butt against his crotch. Bringing a flush of blood into his own sex. 

“At this point, sweet girl, you are only punishing yourself.”  

“Hmpf.” Oh, a response! Not much of one. It didn’t even require you to open up your mouth. The sound coming from deep within your chest. 

Sojiro takes that as a go-ahead to keep chipping away at your resolve. Slips a single finger between your folds and circles it around your entrance. Easily pushes inside of you. Your demeanor may be cold, but your insides are still hot and welcoming. And even your outward appearance is starting to thaw. 

When he slips another finger into you, instead of trying to pull back you thrust your hips forward. Eyes becoming half-lidded as they remained homed in on your tablet. Scrolling far too sporadically and fast to actually be paying any attention to what you’re reading. 

Sojiro sinks his digits deeper into your heat. The cold band of his watch pressing against your mound, sending a sharp shiver through your spine. He situates his thumb over your nub and massages, while he finds and strokes a sensitive bundle of nerves within your walls. Sets a pace that halts your scrolling completely; coaxes a beautiful moan of surrender and breaks your focus away from the tablet’s screen. 

Finally, your last bit of ice melts; all of the softness coming back into your body. You lean your weight back against him, your eyes rolling as your head falls back against his shoulder. Pretty pursed lips, falling slack. You let the tablet drop to the floor with a thud. Both of your hands reaching for each of his respective thighs, grasping at the fabric of his pants. 

“Ah, there she is,” Sojiro coos, with a smug grin on his face. He picks up his pace. Strokes your sensitive bundle of nerves faster, but not quite fast enough. “Say you forgive your Papa and I’ll let you cum.” 

Shaking your head back and forth against his shoulder you groan, “MmMmm.” Craning your neck you lurch forward to kiss him and whisper, “I don’t forgive you~” 

Sojiro slows his pace to a near complete stop. Takes note of the cheeky little grin on your face, and how your chest shudders at the abrupt pullback in stimulation. “I suppose,” he kisses you back, “I’ll have to keep working at it.”


	54. McCreexDaughter!Reader/Wedding Dress

“Eh, daddy, what’d ya think of this one?” You practically sing the question as you spin around in the wedding dress. Strapless and lacey, with a big ol’ bow in the back. All that white fabric billowing out, making you look like the real-life princess that you are. You jump up and down a few times, absolutely full of giggles; your breasts bouncing in the cups of the dress. God,  _damn_. 

“Jus’ as perfect as the last one, Pumpkin.” 

McCree shifts in his seat; looks towards the nice store associate who is becoming increasingly suspicious with every new dress that you slip on. The two of you better start talking of buying something soon, or she might start questioning your motives. 

He couldn’t imagine you looking anymore darling, like a true-blue southern belle. Even in his mind’s eye, where you’ve got your hair all done up, and a pretty vale shrouding your face; nothing compares to the barefooted, messy haired, baby girl he’s got right in front of him. It’s all making Jesse dream of being at the end of that wedding aisle, instead of being the one walking you down it. Or maybe he could still walk you down it and then stay there while the minister has the two of you repeat after him.  

Then he starts thinking about his wedding night with his precious baby girl and suddenly the crotch of his pants is feeling real tight. You’re beaming as you walk away from him. A little smug because you know you’re making things difficult for him. Then you disappear into the dressing room, only to come back out a few moments later with a coy grin on your face.  

“Daddy?” You ask, “Would’ja mind helping me out’a this?”

His gaze flits to the store clerk for a moment who seems to be ready and willing to offer up a helping hand. McCree is quick to bate her back with a raised hand and a friendly tip of his cowboy hat. He slips inside of the dressing room, as your falling back against the dressing room mirror. It’s wide and tall and giving him all sorts of thoughts.    

He closes and locks the dressing room door. Approaches you and wraps two long arms around your waist. Takes a hand full of the back of your dress. Feeling up the fabric and enjoying every caress and touch. He kisses you passionately and says, “You know, I’d marry you in a second if I could.” 

“I’d marry you in a _half_ a second if I could,” you retort back. Wrapping your own arms around his waist, getting two hands fulls of his jeaned ass. 

McCree growls and kisses you even deeper. “Would’ja say ‘I do’ for me?” 

You grin while you go for his belt buckle, “I, take you; my daddy, to be my law-full-y wedded husband,” You get the belt buckle lose, unbutton his pants and yank down the zipper, “I’m gonna hold ya, for richer, poorer; for better or for worse, in sickness n’ health,” Shoving your hand into his pants you cup his bulge, grope his shaft, and stroke him through his boxers, “’Til death, do, us part. I  _do_ , daddy.”   

Jesse groans, a shiver running through his whole body. He has to remove your hand from his pants lest you end up making a minute man outa him. “Ya spoil me, baby doll.”

He can’t get enough of his little girl in this dress. It’s fancy and it sure feels fancy. And you look otherworldly in it; like a goddess. He’s so enamored by you, so lost in the fantasy of being able to marry his baby girl and bring her on a honeymoon where he gets to ravish you nonstop. Ruin this pretty white dress cause ain’t like you’d ever be wearing it again.

So he spins you around, lifts up that fancy, white dress, that feels like a million bucks; frees his cock as your arching your back, and planting both of your palms flat onto the mirror. You look him in eyes through your reflection and bite your lip. Slam your ass against his length and grind. “Bed your wife, daddy~” 

You don’t gotta ask him twice. Jesse takes his cock and plunges it into to your sex. You take a sharp breath, chest shuddering with the exhale, back arching even more for him. The hands you have on the mirrors turning into fists. Jesse gives it to you fast and hard, uncaring of how loud all of the contact might be. You’re trying your damnedest to be quiet. Biting your bottom lip, whining from within your chest. 

For good measure, McCree curls a hand over your mouth. Snaps his hips into you as deep and fast as he can go. Your breasts bouncing so much they come outa the dress; it was only matter of time, they were barely contained in the first place. He can’t stop kneading the fabric of the dress, caressing the lace on your midsection. Resisting the urge to dig his fingers into it so he can hear how nicely it’d rip.   

Jesse cums when you do. While your velvet, that feels even better than the velvet on your dresses sash, flutters and squeezes down around him. For a moment he forgets his surroundings; exclaiming ‘baby!’ Groaning and cursing while he’s spurting his own white ribbons inside of your body. 

You’re giggling as he removes his hand from your mouth and his length from your heat. You wiggle your butt and ask, “Wanna unzip me, daddy?” 

McCree carefully slides the delicate little zipper down your back. You spin around and let the dress drop to the ground in a heap around your calves. Now you’re standing butt naked in front of him. Sporting a gorgeous afterglow and a glisten between your thighs. Oh, Christ. 

You place your hands on your hips and nod towards the door, “Daddy, ya better go ‘for they call the cops on us.” 


	55. SojiroxSister!Reader/NON-CON

“Papa, please,  _please,_  don’t hurt him.”

Sojiro’s darling daughter shakes her head back and forth. Ponytail swinging wildly from side to side. Teeth bared. Desperately trying to convince him just to let your secret, unapproved of, boyfriend walk away. Letting go of his pride, Sojiro has to admit that he’s hurt. The kind of hurt that gathers a simmering heat in his chest. He thought he had taught you better than this; that he had a better understanding with his daughter

Sojiro sighs; you’ve clung to his lapels with two little fists. Letting your forehead fall against his chest, still begging. He will let the boy go; he’s already made that decision. Just not before he proves a point he hopes the boy will spread. 

Sojiro removes your hands and places them down at your sides. They clinch up into fists there, arms stiff with your gaze trained on the ground. He reaches out to cup your trembling face. Lifts your chin up ‘til you’re looking at him.

You’re so beautiful when you cry. Cheeks dewy; rosy, practically glowing.

He certainly does appreciate the sight; blood and the simmering heat in his chest pooling down into his crotch.

However, Sojiro’s hardly given you any reason to cry. Though being a seasoned father, he understands that any child who gets caught doing something they’re not supposed to be doing, even if it’s just a small slight, has cause to cry. Even so, he’s the one who has reason to feel hurt; his little girl has been lying to him. Hiding a boy from him. He even has good reason to label you an adulterer.

Sojiro won’t be so brash. Instead will chalk it up to a misunderstanding. After this, he’ll be expecting you and him to be on the same page.

Sojiro glides a thumb back and forth along your cheek, wiping up tears. Keeps note of the boy sitting in his armchair. Gaze locked on the floor, leg giggling. White-knuckled grips on the arms of the chair.

“We have discussed this,” Sojiro says to you.

“I know, I know,” you babble. “I just– he’s really sweet… he’s a nice boy, Papa– I really like h-him.”

Sojiro shakes his head, shrugs his shoulders. Nothing you’ve said in his or your defense matters. “Does sweet and nice– your feelings for–” He gestures to the boy with his hand as he asks, “change who you belong to?”

Your bottom lip trembles as it occurs to you that you’re wasting your breath. Stomping your foot a couple of times in the most childish way; you say, “no.”

“Who do you belong to?”

You know the right answer but it’s hard to coax out of your throat. A hard dry lump of words. “You, Papa.”

“That is right.” He nods his head in agreement.

Letting go of your face, he reaches underneath your skirt. Grabs a hold of your underwear, tugs on them hard enough to allow them to fall all the way down to your ankles. “Now let us show him.”    

Shaking your head quickly from side to side you beg, “Please, Papa– no, not in front of him.”

“Actions are louder than words, Musume. You know this,” he says a matter of factly. He makes a circular motion with his hand. “Turn around.”

“No,” you whine. A small word, but a significant amount defiance you really can’t afford right now. 

Sojiro takes in a deep steadying breath. Bating back the itch of violence in his hands. “Either you listen, or this boy never sees the outside of these castle walls again. Your choice.”

There’s no contest, between saving your boyfriends life or saving yourself some humiliation. So you swallow down your pride and turn around. Bend over and grip the arm of the chair with both of your hands.

Sojiro casually undoes his belt buckle, pulls his cock from his open zipper, and leisurely starts to stroke it, working on bringing it to a full erection. “Pull up your skirt,” he demands. You do as he says, finally showing off the obedient little girl that he knows you can be. “Good girl, hold it, do not let it obstruct my view.”

With both of your hands holding your skirt, you opt to fall forward into the chair. Hiding your face against the plush seat. He’ll have to fix that; for right now he’s admiring your bare ass and the pink sex between your legs. Reaching out he grazes his fingertips against your folds.

“Did you let him in here?” He asks you, wondering if perhaps it is not wise to. In the case that he hears the answer that sure to make him see red. Would ultimately warrant him to lose his poise and cool head.

“No.” Is your muffled answer. Quick, simple, non-elaborate; he believes you.

“Did you service him with your mouth?”

“No.” You sigh, exasperated. “We’ve barely even kissed, Papa.”

“Good,” he says. Pays a brief glance to the boy who is looking to the floor, hands laid over his crotch. Leg still fidgeting, showing no signs of stopping. He wonders if the “sweet” boy has a hard-on and if that would upset you. 

Sojiro takes a few steps forward, presses his hips flush with your rear but does not enter you, not yet. His length slipping between your folds; for a girl who had protested so much, you’re generously wet.

He reaches forward and wraps your hair around his fist once. Yanks your head back, keeping a hand on your hips savoring the way your body reacts to the action. Your thigh shaking, a visible shiver running up your spine, an unmuffled whimper from your lips.

For the first time since Sojiro made his daughter and the boy she was sneaking around with, join him in his office, Sojiro speaks directly to him. “Hands on the armchair, boy. Spread your legs.”

Fear; such a good catalyst to obedience. The boy listenings, even if his eyes are turning glassy; his face and neck beat red. Just as Sojiro thought, there’s a tell-tale bulge, a bulge that he was trying to hide with hands and closed legs.

“You should consider yourself lucky,” Sojiro says as he’s using his free hand to position his cock at your entrance, “Lucky; that I am letting you keep that attached.”

He pushes inside of you in one fluid stroke. Sets a pace that jostles your body and makes you whimper with every full sheath. The gorgeous smooth flesh of your ass rippling. You, still a little pent-up, resistant; making your cunt tight and hot.  

Sojiro wraps your hair around his hand one more time, causing a strangled whimper to escape your mouth, your back to arch at what must be a painful angle.  

Beautiful, pliant, little girl; craning your own neck to the side, without being told to do so, so that your Papa can get a better look at your face. Trained far better than this incident would lead him to believe. 

Still holding your skirt like a good girl, all of your weight being supported by the hair on your head; Sojiro’s not shocked when tears start to fall. Though he can’t wholly tell if it’s the strain or if it’s the embarrassment of being fucked by your father in front of a boy you like, that’s causing the tears to flow. Either/or works for him.

Just when he feels the tickle in his cock; the built-up pressure in his belly, Sojiro balks his strokes. Pulls out to edge himself and prolong yours and the boy’s punishment; before thrusting back into you so violently the chair legs screech against the hardwood floor. Thrusts into you relentlessly. Reels you in by your hair ‘til your head meets his shoulder.

“Do we fully understand eachother now?” He asks you. Pressing his lips to your ear, taking a nibble of the soft lobe there.

“Yes, Pa-pa– I– I’m sorry…”  

“You are forgiven.”

This time when he feels the tickle and heat strike in his length he lets it happen. Cums inside of you growling, thinking, no; knowing that no other man will ever be able to do this unless he demands it, and that’s how it’ll stay. As it should be. As it’s meant to be.

You’ll remember this, think of it anytime a boy catches your eye. You’ll think of your Papa’s strong hand gripping your hair, his cock buried deep inside of your cunt; know that Sojiro doesn’t often give second chances, and think twice. You will ignore your adolescent feelings and understand that only your Papa knows who good enough for his little girl.

So will the boy for that matter. Hopefully, his fear doesn’t weigh too heavy when he’s laying in his bed, wide-eyed, shamefully touching himself, thinking about how close he skirted the line. Will, with expected hesitation and discomfort, warn any, and all of his friends to stay away from the Shimada girl.


	56. G!Pa 76xG!Daughter/Masturbation

It’s nearly two in the morning. Your parents are fast asleep, have been since the night was young. Going to bed promptly and on time in a room tucked away upstairs. As per the usual when the parents are away grandaughter and her grandpa will play. Your grandpa had made a suggestion; more like a request that his granddaughter shows him the way she gets off when her grandpa is around to do it for her. 

“Show me how you treat yourself, little girl.”

You looked to the stairs, timid before you stripped yourself of your clothes. Said that you like being as close to the real deal when fantasizing. Plopped down on the couch and closed your eyes. Though they didn’t stay closed for long since the object of your fantasies was sitting right in front of you. 

It’s not long ‘til he can’t help but voice his opinion. “I could make you moan–” Morrison whispers into your ear, “So, much, louder than this.” 

The body of his nubile, supple, sweet little grandaughter shudders. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, a nervous, high strung little giggle causing your plush breasts to ripple. 

“No,” he growls. “You better finish what you’ve started, sweetheart.”

Morrison sits back down on the coffee table. Giving his button more room to spread her legs. More space to allow you to dig those fingers deeper inside of yourself. Stroking your soft, wet walls. Picturing your grandpa stuffing his cock inside in their place.  

He watches you with as much casualness as he’d watch the news. However,  harboring much, much more interest than he does when simply watching the news. Watches as your free hand feels up your own bare thigh, traveling up your body and gropes your breast. Moaning and sighing with each stroke of your fingers; with each tug and pinch of your pebbled nipple. 

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The sooner you cum,” he says, reaching out to run the beds of his fingers nails down the length of your thigh, starting from the swell of your hip, all the way down to your knee, “the sooner I can spread that pretty cunt open, and fill it up.”    

Quickly your hand goes from your breast to your clit. Indicating that you’d very much like him to do that. Start rubbing rudely. Your tummy convulsing, chest shaking with labored breaths. 

As he’s cocking his head to the side, getting a different angle of how you work your own sex to completion, Morrison reaches down and grips his own eager erection through his jeans. You never fail to fill it with blood, make it ache and throb. Make your grandpa feel like he’s just a man in his twenties again.

Except he’s a seasoned player now. With even more stamina than any boy in his twenties. Knows how to make a cute little girl like you cum ‘til you’re screaming his name. He fucks you so good and so often, it’s a wonder you’re ever able to walk on your own, let alone straight.  

When you start to cum he can see you’re a breath away from letting out a loud, incriminating moan. So he stands up and swiftly covers your mouth, holding your head back against the couch, hovering over you ‘til you’re done twitching and whimpering into the palm of his hand. 

Instead of removing his hand from your face he drags his down your cheeks. Opens up your mouth and shoves a couple of fingers inside. You happily wrap your lips around them with a hum. Sucking and curling your warm, slick tongue around them. 

He forcibly removes his fingers, as you won’t simply let him have them back. Scooting further down onto the couch you bring your feet up, spreading your legs even farther apart, holding onto your ankles. He sinks the slickened digits into your heat and grins.  

“Sweetie, it’s gonna be one hell of a task keeping you quiet.”


	57. McCreexDaughter!Reader/Somno/NON-CON/Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty heavy/dark read with caution.

It ain’t your fault. It ain’t your fault that he’s been a degenerate his whole entire life. That because of that you never got to grow up like normal kids get to. That he was irresponsible enough to end up with you in the first place; not that he ain’t grateful for that every single day. You’re the best fuckup he’s ever made. It’s just– you deserve better than what he can give you. You deserve better than what he does give you. 

You deserve a better daddy than the one you’ve got, but the truth is McCree’s all you have. And when he’s being real honest with himself, he doesn’t actually believe anyone else could take care of you, protect you, or love you, as well or with as much earnest as he can. 

Yeah, you may meet another man who might insist he’d lay down his life for you; treat you right; never hurt you, but if there’s one thing Jesse knows for sure: Nobodies ever gonna love you as fiercely or as deeply as he does, and that’s a fact. Sometimes when he’s looking at you he’s so enamored, so filled with pride that he made you, that it physically hurts his chest, makes his head spin. 

How something so perfect, could come from someone so shoddy is nothing short of a miracle. 

You’re far too trusting anyway. Bending over right in front of your daddy; peeling the jeans from your bottom as you’re getting ready for bed. You shouldn’t be doing that. At the very least you should demand he close his eyes, that he looks away. You just trust that he will; trust that he does. As a good dad should and would.

McCree never does advert his gaze; not for long at least. Typical, he will always give in to his impulses. He watched you from the corner of his eye, with heat rising in both his crotch and face. 

What the hell is wrong with him? What happened to him that made him turn out this twisted? The answer:  _You_ , flits across his mind everytime he questions his own morality. 

As you started to turn, McCree damn near forgot to look away that time. So lost in his own head, drowning in his own inner speculation. But as usual, you turned around, none the wiser, with a sweet little smile on your face. 

How can the two of you be forced to be in such close quarters all the time, and you haven’t figured out how much of a pervert your pop is? 

“Ya ready to hit the road, daddy?” You asked.

“Hey now, what’d the road to teh you?” 

Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, followed quickly by an exasperated sigh and roll of your eyes. “Oh come on, stop it; are ya ready ‘er not?” 

He chuckled, slapped his knees and stood. “Ya always fall fer that one.” You huffed as you snatched up your bag and headed for the door. Assumed that he was ready since he wouldn’t give you a straight answer. Jesse took your minor scorn like a balm, it feels good when you’re annoyed with him. It’s what he deserves.

McCree tells himself nothing but lies. Tells himself that he won’t go no further than he already has. That’s what he said the first time. And the time after that, and the one that’ll come after that one.  

The first time he touched you, it was while you were softly snoring in his ear. Over your nightshirt; he hardly put any pressure, didn’t grope, no heavy petting. Ghosted his hands over your body, nuzzled his face into your neck. Stuck his hand into his boxers and jerked his cock to the fantasy of being the man who takes your innocence. 

That was the first time he lied to himself. Said he’d never do it again. Demanded it of himself. Was so wrought with guilt he nearly confessed to you, just so he could see the disgust on your face.  

Never do it again, turned into rules: 1.) Never under the clothes. 2.) Don’t leave any marks.  3.) Never below the belt. 4.) Don’t keep any evidence. 5.) No penetrating you with any part of himself. 

It’s not incest; not molestation; it’s not all that deplorable if he doesn’t cross each new line he draws for himself in his dirty, mucked up heart. 

Eventually; he’ll end up breaking every single one of those rules. Crossing every line. Even ones he hadn’t laid down for himself. Ones he wasn’t aware existed.  

Laying next to you night after night, he doesn’t understand it. How you manage to stay so soft when you don’t have ready access to fancy soaps or lotions that would keep you this way. And yet you are. You’re velvety and smooth, so warm and peaceful. He’s never laid hands on anything that feels nicer than you.

Your delicate little nipples always respond to his touches, no matter how light they may be. To the rough pads of his fingers as he’s lightly pinching them between thumb and pointer finger. Rolls them around imagining getting his mouth latched onto them. 

Like with most things he could only fight the fantasy for so long. He lifted up your shirt one night, latched onto your nipple and sucked. Sucked and licked your little nub while he watched your face for any stirring. 

That always keeps his adrenaline pumping. The fear that you’ll wake. Wake up to find your daddy ruining your precious innocence with his greedy hands and his wanton mouth. It’s just a consequence he’s always going to have to deal with. 

Though you never do, haven’t woken up yet; barely even stirred. You sleep like a bag a rocks; while McCree hardly ever sleeps at all. Though that’s his own damn fault.

One day Jesse just felt like… inquiring about your ability to sleep like a newborn baby every night. Despite all the danger of being on the run; despite how uncomfortable the bed might be; despite all the things he does to you. 

“Cause I got you, pop!” You answered with a big, angelic grin on your face. You hugged him so tight and with so much love that he felt a near-violent need to push you away. He don’t deserve all that faith. Then you looked up at him and said, “I feel safe as long you’re around. So I sleep good.” 

Oof. How could words so soft and sweet feel like a stab in the heart? 

He had indulged in your breasts for so long that previous night that he left a little hickie to the left side of your nipple. Jesse watched you change out of the corner of his eye that morning. Still glowing from being such a sweetheart. Watched your expression change, eyebrows pulled together in confusion as they do, when you discovered the mark. 

Just confusion; simple confusion. No horror, or a bright, glaring, light bulb of understanding. You quickly brushed it off and went on with your day. 

His phone ain’t much for making phone calls, or good for much at all. But it’s still got a good camera on it. Usually, it stays tucked away in a duffle bag. Way below everything else that he uses on a daily basis. 

One night McCree got to thinking: You’re prettier than a picture, but that don’t mean taking some wouldn’t make for some… memories. Images he can look at and torture himself with when you’re being an especially sweet and loving daughter. 

Just another night, and another rule broken. As he was spreading your legs, priming you for the perfect snapshot your stir. His breathing hitched, heart raced, an instant sheen sweat appeared on his forehead.   

“Daddy~” you whined in your sleep. A little purse of your lips from cute irritation and frustration. You’d shift and groan before your body would go back to its completely pliant state. 

McCree petted your head then kissed your temple. Whispered, “shhhh,” into your ear, and assured you, “daddy’s here. You’re alright, angel.”

He kept those pictures. He should have deleted them; he should have done many a thing. Should have turned himself in, saved his little girl from himself. 

After that, he kept his phone in an easier to access place. A pocket where he can reach for it and look at those pictures during long hours of travel. While you’re talking away, being all animated as you usually are. Such a happy girl for your circumstances. 

He looks at those pictures and then looks at you, over and over. As if he’s trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. He was there when he took the photos but it just doesn’t seem like it’s you. 

There’s no way that this is his little girl Jesse’s holding in his palm. With her legs spread and her breasts peeking out from under her shirt. It’s the perfect shot, because he had done something a little reckless. He cooed your name and it made you smile in your sleep. Making for a darling photo.   

Another week, another temporary place. Another night and more God-awful temptation. 

Tonight’s the worst night of them all, what feels like the crescendo. Nothing was getting rid of the urge. No amount of petting, sucking. No matter how much he played with your folds, teased your virgin hole. He even came from rutting his cock between your thighs and the persistent pull in his belly didn’t go away. He still couldn’t sleep. 

You’re God damn everywhere. Your scent that’s next to him, on him. Your warmth, your presence.  

McCree had to launch himself out of bed. Stand in the doorway puffing on his cigarillo, staring at your sleeping form. On your belly, legs still splayed; just how he had left them. Panties still pulled halfway down your thighs. Shirt pushed half way up your body; bra unclasped. Glisten still shinning from all the slick he worked from your unconscious body. Your body just doing what it’s hardwired to do, but damn if it doesn’t make Jesse feel a little bit smug. 

His dick’s hard; throbbing, demanding attention in his boxers. He’s already broken every other rule that came before. He’s already crossed all of those lines. It’s inevitable ain’t it? Breaking that last rule. Maybe once he’s gone all the way, just once, only once, he can finally get rid of this blasphemous urge of his. 

Jesse feels mad. Can’t stand it anymore; can’t resist it. It ain’t like he’s climbing on top of you, girth in his palm, pressing the head of his cock to your entrance cause he don’t fucking love you. Cause he wouldn’t die for you. Wouldn’t give you the world if he could. McCree loves you beyond that of what a father or lover feels; it’s a twisted, unignorable combination of both.

Jesse inches into your chaste velvet painfully slow. All of his muscles taught and seized up from how careful he’s trying to be. Sucking air through his teeth with a hiss. You’re so unbelievably tight, warm, and wet. The best feeling thing he’s ever had hugged around his cock. 

He swears he sees stars; can’t believe how dizzy he’s become. He clutches onto the rusty metal bed frame, places a palm flat on the bed next to your face.  Finishes sliding into the hilt, and humps his hips against your backside. 

What he’s done so far isn’t exactly what he’d call careful. Sinking every last inch of his length into his baby girl’s virgin flower isn’t being careful. Touching her night after night isn’t careful. But he was as careful as he could be under the circumstances of what he’s been doing. Considering he’s been living with the extreme, primal need to make you his absolute everything.  

Lord, and yet he wasn’t careful enough. 

Your eyes snap open. You crane your neck to get a look at what’s happening to you. To get a look at who’s doing it to you. Who else would it be? And yet it’s still sickeningly shocking to see your daddy with his face twisted in pleasure. Bile bubbling in your belly, rising in your throat. Your brighter than sunshine, more comforting than the warmth that comes from it, daddy watching you wake with a twinge of his own horror in his eyes. 

Your jaw quivers with the start of a sob. Your hand flying back to try and push his hips away, make him pull out. The first cascade of tears falls down your face. Your mouth opening up wide with a wail. 

“Da-daddy?! Get off me! Get o–” 

McCree’s quick to cover up your mouth. Both because the sound of your tear-strained voice makes his stomach turn, and because these walls are thin and the neighbors will hear you in an instant. Whether they’d care or not he doesn’t know but he doesn’t want to take the risk. He lays down on top of you his heart aching for you. His hips slamming a little harder against your ass. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your temple. 

“Oh God; baby, don’t cry, please don’t cry. S’alright, ‘m almost done.” 

What a selfish man he is. He shoulda resisted. At the very least, should have taken more precautions. Shoulda done you a favor; drugged you so you couldn’t wake up to him ruining your worldview. 

Where’d his good sense run off to? Where’s his clear thinking been for the last year or so? It’s too late now. Your eyes are wide open; you can see and feel your daddy for all that he really is. Just a big, dumb man with a dick between his legs; who lets it dictate all his life-altering decisions. 

He says he’s sorry some more. Says it so much it hardly sounds like a real word anymore. Tell’s his little girl she’s beautiful, how good she feels. He loves you so fucking much, he’s only doing this cause he loves you. 

All of your sobbings, kicking, and wailing brings a prickle of tears to his own eyes and a new flush of heat into his cock. He can hardly comprehend how much better it is now that you’re awake; even tighter now that you’re resisting. 

McCree whimpers along with you, presses his forehead against your own. He can’t stop. God, he doesn’t want to. Even if he can’t stop completely he does slow down a little bit. Rubs your belly in a soothing manner, shallows out his strokes. Maybe it’ll help to mellow out your wriggling, the clawing against the skin of his hip. All the keening and pleading in his palm. 

Jesse nuzzles your face. Breaths through the sickness welling up in his stomach. He’s not sure if he could live with you hating him. He needs you to calm down; if you’d just calm down a little… 

“Pumpkin?” He kisses the swell of your cheekbone not covered by his hand. “Sweetie? Baby… jus’ relax for daddy, huh?” Another long pleading kiss on your cheek. “Relax ‘n it’ll feel good; promise, baby. Jus’ relax a little– you’ll see.”

Jesse isn’t all that surprised when you actually listen. A barely feasible wave of relief at the compliance. You don’t stop crying but you do stop leaving claw marks on his hip. Instead, you bring that hand under your body and hold onto his wrist. He can feel your legs go slack. No more kicking, nor fighting. But your body’s still shaking uncontrollably; he can’t fault you for that.  

Then he removes his hand from your mouth and tenderly pets your hair. “Good girl,” he says. 

He watches you as you take a deep shaky breath. Bury your face in the pillow trying wipe away all the tears. Then you crane your neck and ask through a sob cracked whisper, “Pop– why’re you doin’ this?” 

Oh, now you’re just trying to tear his heart in half. He deserves it, but he just– he needs you to understand. You  _have_ to understand. 

“Told ya, hun– ’M doin’ this cause I love ya, darlin’.” A few tears escape him, he buries his face into your hair to get them away from him. Only for a few more to fall the moment he lifts his face back out. Growls as he picks up his pace, and your grip on his wrist tightens. “Love ya so fuckin’ much– you’re my dream girl, sweetie.”  

“Me ‘n you are already so good together. We’re a team, ain’t we?” He thrusts deep, rolls his hips against your backside. “This makes us perfect, ain’t that good? Ya love your daddy don’t’cha?” 

You nod your head. “More than any– anybody in the w-world, daddy.” By the end of your sentence, you’re sobbing again. Big, chest shaking, choking sobs. 

Those words, the little arch in your back as you press your ass closer to his crotch, sends a dopamine flood through his brain. You don’t hate him; thank the Lord you don’t hate him. 

“That’s my brave girl– baby, you’re so brave.” 

He snaps his hips into you quickly. One fast snap after the other, trying to chase down his climax. Slick and skin creating a whirlwind sound of sex. 

As his cock swells and thick ribbon, after milk-white ribbon spurts inside of you, Jesse collapses all of his weight on top of your body. Groaning and cursing into your hair. Pressing his hips harder against your backside. Singing praises; lost in a very brief but intense moment of unadulterated bliss. 

It doesn’t last long. When he comes down from the clouds, the blood in his ears leaves, allowing him to hear that you’re still sobbing. Jesse goes right back to saying he’s sorry, he’s so God damn sorry. It’ll be okay, he swears it. The two of you are gonna work through this.   

McCree sits up and pulls you into his lap. Cradles his baby, letting you cry and cry no matter how he longs for you to stop. No matter how much it feels like a knife through his chest. Searing, slicing it’s way from between his rib cage to his belly button. 

Then you hug him tight. Trying to find solace in the man who made you feel so tumultuous in the first place. Your body shudders; all the way from your head to your toes. He’s not sure if you’re cold or feeling the holy ghost run through you. He brings you in closer; he’s like a furnace, he’ll make sure you stay warm. He’s gonna take care of you. Your daddy’s gonna make it up to you, make it worth your while. 


	58. Hanzo/Dragon(s)xSister!Reader/Heavy-Dub Con

Simultaneously, you’re sitting in your room; doing up your hair; getting your makeup done; while Hanzo, your father, and younger brother are just sitting down. Getting ready to have a long, tedious meeting about the numbers, the game plans to smuggle, for a new weapons deal with a rival clan. 

There has always been a heavy imbalance of responsibilities. Hanzo ends up with far more on his plate than Genji; more negotiations, meetings, travel, and missions. Lately, it seems he’s managed to be even busier than his own father. Of the leader, the oyabun of the Shimada empire. And it’s all starting to take a toll on him. 

Taking his seat of the meeting table to the right of his father, Hanzo is tired, irritable, and frustrated in many ways. 

So frustrated that he can hardly keep his mind out of the gutter. Any moment someone or something isn’t commanding his attention he’s thinking about you. Thinking about his baby sister bent over a bed, her hips in his hands while he’s pounding his aching, neglected cock inside of her. 

You, with your back arched, up against a wall, looking back at him with lust filled eyes. A hand reached underneath, and in between your legs. Playing with your folds, fingering your sex, moaning his name. Hanzo with his little sister down on her knees, mouth stretched around his cock, tongue cradling his shaft. 

You, laid out on your back with your legs spread, held up and apart with your own hands hooked under your knees, begging him to fill you up. He can practically hear your voice, feel your– 

Unbeknownst to him both of his dragons have manifested outside of the meeting room. This is unusual; it’s not often the dragons manifest without their master’s explicit consent.  _Especially,_  without their master’s knowledge of their presence. 

Both of the creatures waft through the halls of the castle together. Circling around each other’s bodies. Growling and humming warnings. Staff members hurridly moving and staying out of their way. The dragons are seeking out the source of all of their master’s focus consuming fantasies. Dead set on using you to alleviate all of the pent-up frustration that’s clouding up their master’s mind.

Your handmaiden may not be a professional makeup artist but she could have fooled you. Nobody does a winged line like she can. Sitting still as a statue, you hold your breath while she lays down the liquid eyeliner across each of your lash lines. Finishing them off with a flick of her wrist. 

As you’re giddily looking in the mirror, admiring her hard work, your eldest brother’s dragons ghost through your door. Coming out solid on the other side; humming, growling, waving their tails back and forth, demanding both of your attention.  

Twisting your torso in your seat, you bow and give them greetings. 

“Has my brother finally made time to see me?” You ask, looking towards the door expecting it to slide open any moment now, and for Hanzo to sulk on in through the door. 

Hanzo doesn’t and he won’t be. 

One of the dragons keeps advancing, while the other one climbs onto the bed and flits their tail around wildly. Immediately you can tell that they seem a bit wilder, not quite as calm and composed as they usually are, with have a primal energy about them. You’re about to question where your brother is at, and why they are here without him when you catch sight of their lewd, leaking erections.

Warmth rises in your cheeks, your mouth dropping open. “O-oh,” you stutter, legs snapping together an instant pool of heat seeping out into your panties.  

Looking towards your handmaiden, she has already backed off from you. She lowered herself to the floor, as is customary when in the presence of such noble creatures. Both customary and wise not to be close to a Shimada, or make any sudden movements when one or more of their dragons are about. It’s been hammered into every person on the castle staff that they are regal and powerful. To be respected with space and a lowered gaze.     

“Ah- um– thank you– for your assistance, Miss. You’re dismis–” 

Before you have a chance to finish your sentence the dragon tugs at your rob. Breaks off your train of thought with a small yelp. The robe tears open, revealing your nearly naked body. Cheeks now radiating an apple red; not because of your exposed chest, but because you know exactly what the dragons want. 

While you’re not opposed to letting them have what they want, you’d rather they did not take it in front of your favorite handmaiden. 

She acknowledges your permission to leave with a timid nod of her head, stands up but does not go. It’s not for lack of want, but rather because of an abundance of fear that she doesn’t. The dragons have taken up most of the space in your room. There’s just no pathway big enough for her to feel she’d be safe enough taking her leave. 

“Please– just, hold on a moment–” you plead. 

The dragons won’t be holding; are far too impatient, feeling every bit of Hanzo’s need to bury himself in his little sister. You may be the littlest Shimada, but they are seeking to assist and relieve their true master. They’re hardly aware of the presence of your handmaiden and don’t care about your immodesty. 

Abruptly the creature tugs you off of your vanity stool and onto the floor. Your legs splay from the impact, the dragon roughly shoving their muzzle into your cunt. Taking deep whiffs, licking the fabric up and down with their long, slick tongue. The impact was so harsh that your back arched up off of the ground, a wail of distress escaped your chest. 

Looking back you see your dear handmaiden with glassy, wide eyes cowering against the wall. Watching as the being she’s been taught to respect and fear tears your underwear from your hips. The dragon having grown tired of foreplay quickly. They want to mate, spread you open, and get their fat cock warm, right now. 

You gasp as their tail wraps around your waist, lifts you up off of the ground and slams you against their cock. Their intention was to enter you, but in their haste, the creature’s member misses your entrance. The length slides between your cheeks, pokes against the small of your back. The dragon rears back and tries again. This time making a connection; creating a terrible burning sensation from the abrupt stretch.  

You cry out, tears prickling at the corners out your eyes. The pain dulls as the dragon’s cock spurts rope after thick rope of slimy, warm, and tingly, cum onto and inside of your sex. 

The dragon thrusts, sinking their length deep inside of your body; stretching you open, filling you beyond the brim. You wail, moan, and grasp at their elongated body as they keep thrusting. Fast, hash rolls of their body. Pulling out and burying themselves back in over and over. Relentlessly ravishing you the way they see it happen in their master’s fantasies.  

You’ve already forgotten about your handmaiden. The brief embarrassment swiftly fucked from your mind. Too full, too close to the edge of a body curling orgasm to hear any of her whimpers or whines, or to give a care. What were you getting ready for anyway? Feels like that was hours ago now. Well, whatever for, whoever for, it’ll have to take a rain check.  

Meanwhile, Hanzo can do anything but focus. Is in utter shock that his dragons have taken it upon themselves to do something about his frustrations. 

His hands shake as he grasps onto his pants. Hanzo shuts his mouth into a hard line; breaths heavily in and out through his nose. He can hardly hear what’s being said when he can hear the groans of his dragon. Hanzo can feel your hot, strained cunt around his own throbbing erection. Like he’s there, embodying his dragon, the physical cause of all your keening and moaning echoing between his ears. 

You even call out his name; all iterations of it, Hanzo, anija, brother. Your nails clawing at his ribs, dragging down his abs as they scratch across the scales of the dragon. His dragon is hardly close to done. But for him, it’s been so long that it doesn’t take much for him to cum inside of his pants. 

However, that doesn’t nearly mean this is over for him. The blood doesn’t retreat back into his brain. Rather, it stays, raging in his length. So engorged he has a strong heartbeat in the head of his dick. And now that he’s cum, he’s agonizingly sensitive and that was only the first of many. 

Beads of sweat accumulate in his hairline, a single line of it rolling down his temple. Hanzo as nonchalantly as he possibly can wipes the sweat away. A shaky hand falling back into his lap. 

Hanzo wants nothing more than for this meeting would come to a close. He’s beyond afraid of bringing -this- level of embarrassment to his father. The future head of the empire quaking in his seat? Cumming untouched inside of his underwear, because he failed to control his dragons? Shameful. 

Somehow Hanzo manages to give his opinion when asked for it. Doesn’t give away that he’s cumming,  _again_. Sticky, milky-white seed draping over his thigh. Spurting against the front of his pants, creating a wet spot too big for him to be able to stand up without bringing attention to his bulge that refuses to leave and won’t. Not ‘til his dragons are done reaming his baby sister.

Back in your room, your legs are quivering, toes curling as the dragon uses you like a fuckable ragdoll. You’re not sure just how many times you’ve cum; your voice is becoming hoarse. You’re too full, too focused on the protruding bulge of your belly to have any embarrassment, concern, or sympathy left for the poor woman cowering against the wall. 

The girl feels as if she’s having the strangest lucid dream. She can’t figure out how to feel; one moment it sounds as if her mistress is… enjoying herself, while the next it sounds like you’re in agony. At this point, it sounds as if the two are mixing into eachother and there’s no difference anymore. She can only hope that the dragons might soon be done with the brutal mating of the young Miss, and she’ll be allowed to and find some help for you. 

Suddenly the dragon slams their cock into you. Cumming, long, flowing and hot, rich seed overcrowding your insides. Your eyes rolling back into your head at the feeling, moaning as they leave pools of themselves inside of you. It’s soothing to your abused insides; helps you feel a little less tense. The firm, hot, harsh fullness of the dragon’s length not feeling quite as overwhelming as it did before. 

They pull out of you, all of their seed spilling from your clenching, ruddy, little hole. Making a mess of the floor, causing your handmaiden’s jaw to drop. 

The dragon gingerly lays you down in it as your brother’s second dragon floats down off of the bed. You’re not sure why you tried to get back up; maybe to try and get into a more comfortable position. Legs are too shaky to use. Weak from their rough spread, and the even rougher fucking. 

Deispight your disadvantage you manage to roll over onto your belly before the creature curls their tail around your body. Wraps so tightly that you’re forced to arch your back. The dragon lifts you back up off the ground, and positions you to take more ceaseless use.  

This time when they plunge into your cunt it’s a much smoother entry than the first time. Instead of fighting it you just let your head hang. Clutch weakly to the tail wrapped around your midsection, and hold on. Immediately the dragon ruts into you just of roughly as the first one did. Salacious wet slapping filling the room with how full of cum and slick you are. 

Your perfectly placed updo came loose a long time ago. Now your strands are swinging wildly with each and every thrust. Your pretty, perfect, winged eyeliner smugged from your tears, black lines trailing down your cheeks. Dark eyelashes dewy with the tiny droplets of salt. 

Amazed, a little unnerved, but incredibly turned on by the view of the bulge protruding from your belly with every full sheath of their length. The small one that is always present from how much they’ve left inside of you. Mouth falling slack, with meager “ahs” that match the pace the dragon has set inside of you.  

Sojiro’s the first to notice the tension in Hanzo’s body, the large wet stain on his crotch. How glaringly ruby his neck is, and the glisten on his forehead. Now he’s too concerned for his children, both his daughter and his son, to have this meeting drag on any longer. It doesn’t take much intuition to puzzle together what’s going on here, and who is on the receiving end. 

Sojiro calmly but firmly lets the gentleman know that if they have any further revisions and/or questions for him they can send him an email. Stands up and has the guards show them the door. As to not bring any attention to his eldest’s inability to stand up and respectfully bid them farewell. 

The moment the businessmen leave Hanzo shoves his hands into his pants. Wraps his hands around his cock, creating a hollow fist, and humps into it. Lets his forehead fall against the cooling, smooth surface of the table expelling a long, pained groan of something between relief and agony. 

All of his wet, stickiness seeps between his fingers, around his fingers. He is such a mess. Not nearly as much of a mess as you are. You’re sopping, leaking. He can feel it all, hear it all. 

“Holy shit, Hanzo,” Aloof as Genji usually is during meetings he was completely unaware of his big brother’s plight. Too focused on being present, impressive, and professional, he hadn’t noticed a thing. 

Sojiro walks over to Hanzo and places a comforting hand on his back rubs a soothing open palm across his shoulders. 

“My son, you clearly need a break. I will open up a break in your schedule.” 

Sojiro looks to Genji, who is already getting worked up, decides Hanzo’s had enough excitement, and that his daughter needs to be cared for as soon as possible. Not to be left in whatever exhausted, disarray she must be in for very long.  

“Sparrow. Go take care of your sister. From the looks of your brother, I’m sure she needs our assistance.” 

Simultaneously, as Genji is heeding his father’s command, your handmaiden has finally gotten her chance to bolt. Rushing through the halls, in search of any of the men of the castle, wondering just how she’s going to get the words that will voice her distress out of her mouth. While Genji’s pace isn’t exactly leisurely it isn’t nearly as quick as hers. She runs right into him, immediately apologizing profusely for the slight.

“I really am terribly sorry–”

“Not a big deal,” Genji assures her again.

“It’s just that– well, um…” She leans in and whispers, “Hanzo’s dragons– ah, well they, um.. your sister–” 

“Oh!” Genji holds up a hand, stopping her explanation. “We are already aware.” He takes notice of her shaking hands, and her big doe eyes. Genji places a comforting hand on her shoulder before continuing on his way to assist you. Calls back to her, “why don’t you take the rest day off? You know what? Take the week off, paid leave.”


	59. McCreexFemale!Reader/Ft. Hanzo

Unbelievable. Unbelievable, that you actually let this infamous man drag you back to Overwatch HQ.  _Overwatch._

You knew you’d seen that cowboy’s face somewhere before. A charming man with an addictive smile, and even more addicting hands. Jesse sat down next to you at the bar you frequent; wearing a jean blue shirt, and dark wash, blue jeans; signature cowboy hat on his head. Despite all of this he had insisted that he was “undercover” for a normal night at the local bar. 

You had poked fun. “I’d hardly call this,” you said gesturing to all of him, “being undercover.”

He leaned forward, smirking, and biting his lip. Such a big presence and a big body. Broad shoulders and the brim of his cowboy hat blocking out the entirety of the rest of the bar. “Well, you didn’t recognize me now did ya?” 

“That’s not a feat; I hardly pay attention to the news.”

When his hand slid up your leg, you didn’t mind it at all. He cocked his head to the side and admired the slopes your neck. Checked you out from head to toe without any shame what-so-ever. You’re not usually such a blushy, giggly mess but there’s something about that cowboy that just brought it all out of you.  

Then he kissed you; tasting smoky and whiskey sour. And kept on kissing you, ‘til you were practically in his lap. His hands groping greedy hand fulls of your plush ass. Neading at the meat of your soft hips. Kept kissing you, you kissing him. Jesse separating your lips, slipping his eager tongue into your mouth, ‘til the bartender had stated that enough was enough. 

He slapped his hand down on the counter and demanded, “Stop tryna fornicate at my bar! Get yourselves a room!”

McCree growled as he pried himself away from you. He asked, really low and gravely, “wanna see where I work?”

You thought yourself that you should get going; it’d been fun, but you really shouldn’t. Instead what came out of your mouth was a breathy little, “Yeah.”

So here you are being snuck into watchpoint by the most handsome man you’ve ever let lead you by the hand; ever let shove you against a wall, pressing your cheek against the cold surface, arching your back as he digs his fingers into your shapely thighs. Dragging them up, and up while he’s running his tongue along your neck, trying to eat you alive. 

Good lord, you’re shivering and mewling already and he hasn’t even gotten you to his room yet. 

“Mmm~ Jesse, where are your quarters?” You ask through labored breath. Your body’s so hot, the walls of your sex pulsating with want. If he doesn’t get you there soon you’re going to melt right out of your panties. 

“We’re almost there, darlin’,” he says. Hooks his hands on the insides of your thighs, pulls your hips back, and grinds his bulge against your ass, “don’t’chu worry.”

You giggle and roll your hips in time with his grinding. “We keep goin’ like this, we’ll never make it.” 

Suddenly a man walks down the hall. You notice him first; all muscle, dressed in tight grey sweats. Black, smooth, and shiny pulled back hair. Accompanied by a stern, but gorgeous face. Startled you spin around, try and push McCree away to no avail, the man feels like an immovable object. Your breath catches in your throat as the stranger gets closer, a bright red blush arising on your cheeks.  

God damn; you’re way too worked up and tipsy for this. Is everyone in Overwatch stunning?

“Hanzo.” Jesse tips his hat to him in greeting. Hanzo giving him a bit of a scowl in return. “What’re ya doin’ up so late?” 

“None of your concern.” 

Jesse nods. “Fair enough.” 

The man barely looks at the two of you as he walks by. Says offhandedly, “She is not allowed in here.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” McCree says with a grin and a wink that Hanzo does not see. 

Hanzo keeps walking and waves him away. “You have a room; use it.” 

“Yes, sir,” Jesse says. He grabs a hold of your wrist and enthusiastically starts to pull you along with him. 

While you’re very excited, eager to finally be getting to a place where you can get nice and acquainted with the cowboy, you can’t help but look back at the stern man. Just to see what he looks like from the back. Then as you are whipping your head back around you catch the man  _staring_. 

It takes him a moment to realize he’s been caught. With his eyes lowered, and what you swear is a pleased, approving look on his face. Getting a healthy look at  _your_  backside. You grin as his gaze flits up and he sees that you see him. The softer, pleased look fleeting and gone in an instant. Quickly he asserts his eyes forward and keeps going.  

You can’t help but laugh out loud, with a little extra pep in your step as you try and keep up with McCree’s long strides. 

“What’chu gigglin’ about?” Jesse asks. 

“Oh, nothin’, handsome,” you say coyly, wrapping your self around his arm. “Just tickled to be here.”


	60. SojiroxSister!Reader/Angst (SFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death mention/Suicide mention.

It’s an old, old cliche saying: no parent should have to bury their child. But it is without a doubt, and wholly true. Here Sojiro stays on his knees, warm hands, gripping your cold, stiff one. There are very few moments in his life where he can remember being completely weak. Weak, helpless, unable to do a thing about what is happening. Most problems, even the bigger ones, are quelled with an order. But he couldn’t bate death back by demanding that it to leave.

He is, unfortunately, mortal. And could not demand that the gods leave you be. Couldn’t foresee that the plate of simple, routine, food he handed you would be the death of you. From  _his_  hands. The same hands that cradled you as a baby, and helped you learn how to walk. The same ones that would have to hold you ‘til your strangled, choked sobs bled out into silence. 

Sojiro’s beautiful, glowing daughter, with all of her shine and glamour gone. All of your immense potential wasted with one simple gesture of foolish affection on his part. He could see it, will never be able to unsee it; the moving image of your soul leaving your body through your eyes as the poison overtook you. It’s permanently, grossly etched into the forefront of his brain. How it made you choke on your own blood as you looked to him with pleading eyes.  

_Papa, help me._

The tightness in his chest was indescribable. The whole weight of the world right on top of his lungs, crushing his ribcage. Because even if he desperately, hopelessly, wanted to save his little girl, he knew the moment you looked at him with teary, bloodshot eyes, teeth already coated in blood, it was over. 

No matter how hard he had shouted for doctors, no one would get to you in time. The poison was unforgiving, designed to kill fast, and horridly. 

Poison that was meant for him. 

All Sojiro could do was hold you. Tell you how much he loved you; loves you. You were in so much pain; it would be over soon. How sorry he was, you didn’t deserve that. It was never his intention to have you take a bullet for him. Didn’t pay any mind to how harshly you were clawing at his shirt. His ears flooded with the sound of your gurgled wails. It twists a sharp, searing knife in his gut, the memory of how scared you were. 

Sojiro would have traded places without any thought. You were so young, set up to realize great things, had so much to experience. 

Hanzo is ready, even if it’s a blow to his pride, Sojiro is replaceable. His eldest would have taken over, and things would eventually have fallen back into order. It should have been him. 

You, his flesh and blood, the fruit of his loins, the apple of his eye, the pride of the castle, are irreplaceable. No one, not a soul will ever be able to outshine the presence you brought into the castle. It is hard to find a single guard, assassin, or staff who isn’t mourning your loss. Who hasn’t left an offering at your alter, many who have openly wept at the sight of your cold, lifeless body.

_Such a tragedy,_  they whisper,  _how awful._

Many philosophers would muse, insist that there is beauty in loss and death but he doesn’t see it; can’t find it, not now. No matter how many shiny gifts are left for you, how many candles are lit. How plush the bedding you are laying on is, or how nice the dress your wearing. Your makeup perfectly done, not a hair out of place. No matter how good the incense might smell, this is ugly. A giant pile, a glaring, reeking representation of his biggest failure.  

They’ll be cremating you soon; as is proper. They just need him to leave so they can do so. But every time he thinks about leaving all he can see are the flames licking at your perfect skin. Permanently turning you into nothing. A pile of dust that used to be his daughter. Because of this Sojiro can’t find the strength to lift himself up off of his knees. 

You’re gone already, and yet, he still can’t let you go. Sojiro’d go with you if he thought he deserved it. Deserved the right to lay down next to you and burn. But he hasn’t earned that honor yet. He has to find who planted that poison first. Only then when he has spilled as much blood as he can in your memory, can he earn the honor of joining you in the afterlife.    


	61. McCreexDaughter!Reader/Happy New Year

The clock is ticking down into the new year. With every passing moment, you just get more and more beautiful. Cheeks rosy from all of the drinks your daddy has been sneaking you. Giggly, excited; the party’s moved outside where they’ll be setting off fireworks. You’ve never seen fireworks before– won’t be seeing them this year either. 

The two of you hang back, McCree insisting that you’ll be getting the best view from back here. Like a good girl, who hangs on every word your daddy says, you listen without any protests. Instead of arguing, you enthusiastically hook yourself underneath his arm and cuddle in close to his body. 

Jesse hands you his beer. Taking it you look up at him and smile. 

Damn that smile. That alluring, beaming, and gorgeous grin. The pull in his belly is already near ignorable. You, showing him exactly why that pull is there, ain’t helping his case none. 

Taking a sip of the drink you grimace, shake your face, and hand it back to him stating, “icky.” 

Lord, you’re precious. 

McCree laughs, takes a long swig of the beer. Tasting your sweet honeyed lip balm on the brim. “Why do ya keep takin’ it from me then?” 

“Cause it makes me feel all tingly.” 

Then the count down really begins. Only sixty seconds left. Your excitement coming out as you start jumping up and down under his arm. Some of the partygoers have already started chanting the countdown. The lower the numbers go, the more people join in. As it gets to the last ten seconds before the new year, you chime in as well. Enthusiastically waving your free arm up and then down with each number. 

McCree doesn't join in. He watches you as if time is moving in slow motion. Sets his beer down on a nearby ledge. He’s ready for what is going to come next. For the kiss you’re gonna adorn your Papa with. Ready to savor the small moment in which he’ll be able to taste the balm from his baby girl’s lips firsthand.  

Then you shout with gusto, “–One! Happy New Year!!!” 

The fireworks are just starting to go off as you look to him. Standing up on your tippy toes you go to give him a New Year’s kiss. He meets you halfway, where you give him a quick, familial, appropriate kiss. But it’s enough to send a lick of fire into his loins. 

The alcohol and the atmosphere combined pulls his strings like a puppet. As you’re moving away Jesse grabs ahold of the back of your neck. Brings you back and kisses you passionately. Wraps a long arm around your waist, bringing you in flush with his body. Your squirming a little, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, and it all just feels like reciprocation. 

So he keeps kissing you. Separates your lips with his own and slips his tongue into your mouth. Even over the loud booms of the fireworks, Jesse can hear your whining; whining that sounds like moans. McCree’s all caught up in it; how good you taste, how warm and wet your mouth is. How nice your tongue feels brushing against his own.     

Only the silence from the end of the fireworks breaks him out of his moment. Pulling away from you, he quickly takes notice of your aghast facial expression. The way the afterglow of the dying fireworks shines in your glassy eyes. 

“Hey, hey,” he says. Hugs you tight; rubs the small of your back. “That’s how daddies are ‘suppose teh kiss their baby girl’s.” He kisses your temple, already feeling your body start to relax in under his arm. “Happy New Year, pumpkin.” 

 


	62. Hanzo x Sister!reader (omo)

“You are doing well,” Hanzo says. 

Big brother is watching you try and fail to meditate. Admiring your pursed lips and your rosy cheeks. The way you wiggle and squirm subtly. Your butt lifting up off of your legs, only for it to plop right back down. Hands full of your skirt, eyes shut much tighter than they should be. You’re not anywhere near a clear and free mind. All you can think about is your full, warm bladder, swollen and ready to burst inside your belly.  

“Don’t be sarcastic,” you whine. 

“Not sarcasm; you are– doing well for your circumstances,” he says. Followed shortly by a small, smug chuckle. 

Your eyes flutter open so you can glare at him with playful eyes. “Such a liar.” Quickly they close again. Your skirt fluttering on the sides from the leg that has started to bounce underneath you. A mousy whimper sounding off from behind closed lips. Hanzo’s pleased at the sight and sounds of all the tells that you’re at the ends of your rope.  

As you fall back into fickle concentration Hanzo carefully, soundlessly stands up. In a couple of strides, he’s standing directly in front of you. He reaches out and just as his fingertips are grazing the apples of your cheeks he says, “stunning.” 

Just as he thought, his sudden touch, voice, and close presence startles you. Your body jolts, thighs clenching together. The blush in your cheeks flushing a little redder. You look up at him with minor offense and a cute little frown.

“I went a little.” You confess.   

“Honesty,” he says. Grazes his fingers along your cheekbone. “Good girl. Let me see.” 

You nod in acknowledgment. Hanzo still cradling your cheek as you hook your hands onto the insides of your knees. With shaky thighs and a heaving chest, you spread them wide. Thinking that spreading your legs is going to open up the floodgates, and it will all come flowing out. Your skirt lifting with the spread, inching up your supple thighs. Then you lift up and hold the fabric against your stomach with one hand; so he can see the small wet spot on the crotch of your cotton-white panties.  

You made it, without another accident. Any more and you’d be disappointing your anija. Sighing from relief you look up to him awaiting approval.  

He gives it to you. “Well done.” Simple, smooth, praise laced with dark baritones sending a shiver through your spine and slick into your panties. Company for the dampness that is already there. 

Hanzo neals down into a lunge just next to you. Traces his fingers down over your jaw, so light it tickles your neck. Your chest shaking with a small giggle that threatens to make you wet yourself. You swallow audibly loud as his hand slips into your underwear. Two rough finger pads quickly finding your clit.

Hanzo rubs slow circles at first, and you watch him do it. Chin to your chest, lip between your teeth, freehand grasping at his pant leg. As his circles become broader he gathers slick from between your folds. Uses it to massage your aching numb faster. All the pressure from your belly and now in your sex becoming too much for you to keep your composure. 

Your mouth drops open. Eyes growing wide as you look up at him, desperate. 

“May I go? Please– please?” 

“You may.” 

“Oh, God– thank you- thank you…” 

The hand holding up your skirt struggles as it shakes, the one holding his pant leg tightens. Warm pee spurts strong and instantly soaks the fabric of your underwear. You keep thankful, admiring eye contact with him as it coats his fingers. Dribbles down between your thighs, watering the grass of the garden underneath you. Your body shaking from head to toe as you get through the orgasm that came with your release.    

Blood rushes into his cock, creating a strained bulge at the crotch of his pants. All of your unabashed, lovely moaning causing it to throb, and now all he can think about it stuffing it inside of that lewd agape mouth, so he can feel all of those moans around his shaft. 

When all your noises of pleasure taper off into pleased hums, Hanzo pulls his hand out of your underwear and shoves them into your mouth. Eagerly you clean them, suck them off, and cradle them with your tongue. 

“Very good girl,” he says. Stands up and works on getting his dick free while you’re still warming up on his digits. “Now it is my turn.”


	63. McCree x Daughter!reader (omo)

“Oh– darlin’,” McCree says as you cup as squeeze his crotch. Kiss and suckle on his bare chest, licking the salt water from the ocean off of his skin. “I ‘preciate your enthusiasm but– ah… ya gotta let daddy piss first.”

It’s been a father-daughter beach day. Perfectly sunny, not crowded, and the two of you had managed to find a secluded spot to set up, laze about and mess around. Jesse coulda sat back and watched you play around in the ocean all day. You’re so cute, letting all the waves push you around in your not so cute bikini. Rather two barely-there pieces of fabric that hardly contain all you’ve got to carry around.  

After joining you in the ocean for a little bit, manhandling you, and tossing you around, he’s found himself back on his towel with his little girl straddling his hips, eager to pull her bikini to the side as sink down onto him. So eager it seems you don’t wanna let him go so he can get his business done and give you what you’re clambering after.  

Suddenly your teeth clamp down around his nipple. Sending a near painful rush of blood into his cock. 

“Ah! Okay- okay, come on, baby– lemme have a moment.” 

He’s a breath away from taking charge. Lifting your butt up and off of him so he can run to the ocean and let it go. Still, you don’t mind him. So he growls, grips your hips and– 

“Wait– wait,” you plead.  

McCree sighs with minor exasperation and waits as you’ve requested. 

“I just– um…” you say. Not looking him in the eyes, you drag your nails down his chest. Jesse groans, not knowing how many more moments he’s going to be able to give you. You giggle nervously, falling forward so you can bury your face in his neck. 

Shaking your head back and forth you ask, “promise ya won’t judge me, pa?”

He’s confused. Not sure what you’ve got for him to be judging you about. You’ve never asked him this kinda question before. Regardless he knows he wouldn’t.

“Of course I won’t, sugar.”  

Momentarily you tear yourself away from his neck. Only briefly able to look him in the eye, your face much redder to be just from your elongated exposure to the Sun. Quickly your face is back in the crook of his neck. 

You groan and whisper, “I’m  _so_  embarrassed.” 

McCree has to laugh. “Oh, baby girl; you’re killin’ me.” 

“I– okay, okay. Alright, here I go–” you say. Your hand disappearing into the slit of his swim trunks, gripping his meaty shaft. He curses and throws his head back against the beach towel underneath him. Thinking to himself how you’re gonna be one upset baby girl if your daddy pees all over you. 

Pulling his cock out from between the slit, you fluidly tug your swimsuit bottoms to the side and stuff him inside of you. You’re so slick that you’re easily able to sink down about halfway onto him. Jesse’s about to tell you-you’re in danger of becoming a human toilet when you say, “I want’cha teh go inside a me, daddy.”

 _Oh;_ well then _._  “Is that right?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you say with a pleading little lilt. 

Now that you’ve gotten your confession out of the way you feel comfortable enough to sit up. Placing your hands on his stomach, unintentionally putting pressure on his bladder, you ease yourself the rest of the way down on his length. Bottoming out you roll your hips and timidly look him in the eye.

“How long ya been holdin’ onta that one for?” He asks, already lifting his hips to buck into your tight, wet heat. 

“A while.”   

McCree reaches out and grabs onto your hips. Holds them flush with his crotch. He’ll give it to you, he’ll give you whatever you want. And hell if just the thought ain’t making his dick throb. “Ya sure, angel?” 

You nod and eager,  _yes._ And it’s settled. There probably wouldn’t have been any stopping it at this point anyway. Maybe he should have warned you first, but he just had to go so badly that he lets it flow up into you without any warning what-so-ever. 

Your eyes grow wide and your mouth drops open. Then your head falls forward and you moan long and loud. Nails digging into the muscle of his stomach, thighs shaking. Belly contracting with pangs of pleasure from your near instant orgasm his hot, heavy flow has yanked from your body. A smile spreading across your face from feeling so full, warm, and satisfied.  

You’re so damn tight around him, and it feels so god damn good to let go inside of you McCree’s feeling like he just might bust just as fast as you.

He growls, trying to hold back just a little longer. The need to cum feeling as desperate as his need was to release. “ _Fuck_ – sugar. Bounce on me, baby.”

Leaning all your weight on him your lift your hips. Ass plopping down with quick, obscenely lewd, wet slaps. Pee dribbling out from between the tight space of your full cunt. Thin lines of it rolling over the smooth, unabsorbing fabric of his swim trunks. 

It’s not very long ‘til the pressure in his belly is releasing again. This time in the form of thick, white ropes of cum spurting up inside of your messy sex. Jesse growls through it. Letting out a slew of curses, gripping your hips so tightly that he’s sure to be leaving you some bruises. 

You look down at the connection between the two of you as you slowly lift your hips up. His cock plopping out as a whole flow of bodily fluids flood out of you and back onto his crotch. His cock still twitching, expanding. Pushing out leftover milky-white seed onto his stomach. 

Laying down on his chest you kiss him hungrily, groaning against his mouth, just so pleased. “That felt  _so_  good, daddy.” You sit back up and take his hands in your own, and nod towards the ocean. “Wanna get cleaned off?”


	64. Daddy!Gabe/Blackwatch boys x Daughter!reader

“He was just bein’ nice, Daddy.” 

“Just nice?” Gabe huffs. “Just bein’ nice, my ass.”

“Yes! He was just introducing himself, being friendly, you know?” 

“Naive girl,” Gabriel says. Stops to turn and face you so he can grab a hold of your chin. Tilts your head up to make sure you’re looking him in the eyes. A thing he does when he wants to make sure his baby girl is really listening to what her daddy has to say. 

With the added benefit that it always seems to make you weak in the knees. 

“Princess, know that whenever a man feels the need to put his hands on you when he’s ‘introducing himself’ that’s not his only objective.”

Frowning you cling onto his arm with both of your little hands. “That boy may never recover.” 

He can’t help but think of your bright eyes, the big smile you had while the new recruit was leaning in, touching your hair, putting his hands on what doesn’t belong to him, and you seemed to like it. 

Gabe says with a tinge of jealousy, “Good.”  

You squeeze his forearm insistently. Frown becoming deeper, a little pout forming on your lips. “That was embarrassing,” you whisper. Complaining a bit half-heartedly; maybe you like it when your papi is protective, comes in like a pit bull taking back its play toy.   

Gabe shrugs. “That’s my job,” he says as he absentmindedly runs his thumb across your protruding bottom lip. Leans in a little too close to you for what is safe in a public space such as this. What is, for right now, an empty hallway in Blackwatch HQ. 

Briefly dipping into the wetness between your pouty lips Gabe says, “Daddy’ll make it up to you.” 

“You better.”

Gabe pauses for a moment; thinking that it’s been a while, the boys have been good. Working hard and hardly working at the same time; how they manage to do that seems to be an odd talent of theirs. Regardless, it’s been a while since he’s shared, and had himself his own custom-made show. 

“How about I invite your uncles over to play?” He asks, leaning in even closer to you. 

A smug, knowing smirk plays across his lips as you instantly bite your lip at the idea, pout disappearing into a timid grin. Eyes glassing over with lust, a visible shiver running through your body. You say, “Oh, I’d like that very much.” 

Gabe’s not shocked to hear that. Afterall, you’re daddy’s little nympho.   

* * *

The living room floor’s been cleared. Covered with pillows and blankets Gabe won’t mind being dirtied and stained with the filth of sex. Watching as the cyborg pounds into his little princess. You’re bent over, hands full of sheets, mouth agape while Gabe sits back on the couch. The ingrate naked and to his right, with a raging hard-on, refusing to touch it lest he makes himself cum just when his turn’s about to begin. 

Gabriel watches carefully, for more than just the obvious reason. Also because he wants to make sure to keep on eye out for anything he doesn’t like or approve of. Making sure the show runs in the director’s favor. 

Genji keeps a strong hold on your hip, fingers digging into the delicate skin. Sure to leave a beautiful pattern of bruises. His other hand reaching forward to slip his fingers into your hair. He yanks your head back. Crying out, your back arches, a small pleased grin pulling at the corners of your lips; your daddy approves. 

Growling through clenched teeth, you grind your ass against the cyborg. Arch your back some more and slam the mounds of your ass down on his cock. Enthusiastically spearing yourself on him, while he matches your motions with his own strong snaps. The soft meat of your hips rippling gorgeous waves of skin.    

Heat boils in Gabe’s core, no wonder porn doesn’t do it for him anymore. Pre-cum seeping from his slit; clear, sticky salt leaving a line of sheen across one of his abs. A visual representation of how much he loves watching his baby girl mewl and milk his subordinates dick like a kitten in heat. 

“Oh-harder, uncle– harder! Please-ple-” 

Genji quickens his thrusts, cutting off your begging. The red glow of his eyes radiating a little brighter, a growl coming from deep within his chest. You’re about to cum; the little quiver in your lip, the faraway look in your eyes, all dead giveaways. 

Then it happens, runs through your whole body. Your thighs shake and a long wail of pleasure flows from your mouth. The wails tapering off in a chant of his name. Genji, Genji, Genji! 

Genji snaps his hips into you harsher. Chasing your pleasure, slamming into you through every little shaky, pained moan and quiver. Leans forward to bury your face in the sheets with a hand, leaning his weight onto your head. Fucks you ‘til your toes finally uncurl and you can seem to breathe again.  

Suddenly Genji pulls out his length, slides it up along the small of your back, spurting ropes of cum against your spine. Gabriel nods in approval, thinking to himself “good boy.” Only your daddy is allowed to spill himself inside of his little girl. 

You slump down to the floor, humming little moans, reaching back to graze your fingertips against Genji’s seed. Looking back at him, you let your tongue hang out of your mouth and drag your digits down the spongy, pink. 

The corners of Genji’s eyes scrunch together and up. He gets down on the floor, whispers in your ear, “Your tongue is as pretty as your pussy.” 

You giggle and say, “Mmm~ thank you.”  

Then he retreats to the couch. But doesn’t sit on it, rather on the floor. Leaning back relaxed and satisfied for the moment. Watching you as you roll over, aglow; so pleased and ready for more. Looking back to your daddy, you’re waiting on him to give McCree the go ahead. So is the cowboy, looking to his commander rather; spring-loaded and eager to get his hands on you.  

Gabriel nods towards you. Says to McCree, “You’re up, Kid.”

Jesse hops up off of the couch. Springy, bouncy cock bobbing back and forth against his stomach. As he takes his place between your legs, Genji is already palming his semi-soft dick, stoking and pulling at it lazily between pointer and thumb. 

You’ve got a long night ahead of you.  

Biting your lip you spread your legs wide, holding them back for McCree with hands hooked under your knees, looking at his ruddy erection with a thirsty gaze, and an open mouth that leads Gabe to believe you’d like to have it in your mouth. But Jesse is looking at the cunt presented to him like he’d like to eat it. Looks like he’s fixated on it, a dumb puppy with a treat to consume.

Gabe’s actually somewhat impressed with his ability to hold back. Finding the will to keep from plunging into you and fucking senselessly ‘til he pulls out and paints your front with his own milky-white ribbons of cum. 

You’re taken aback, expecting exactly that, and instead, getting a lewd hot tongue gliding from your entrance to clit. McCree diving in too fast for you to have a chance to brace yourself. Body jolting from the sensitivity. Hands quickly abandoning their posts, in exchange for a harsh grip on the cowboy’s head.

“O-o-oh, Jesse~,” you whine. Roll your hips up into his face, even for how overwhelmed your scrunched up face would lead Gabe to believe you are, you’re still trying to get more stimulation. Practically holding McCree’s face against your pussy, not that you need to.  

Jesse grins as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. Eagerly suckling, and lapping at your engorged clit. So full of blood, that it’s pulsating with a steady heartbeat. Sucking your folds into his mouth, teasing your hole with swallow protrusions of his hot tongue. Every succession of quick flicks or harsh suckles driving your eyes into the back of your head. 

Throwing your head back, you dig your nails into McCree’s scalp, tummy convulsing. So caught up in your pleasure that you can’t even get a whimper or a moan to pass your lips. All of it caught up in your throat ‘til you’re able to work through it and let it all out with a long pleased sigh. Play with your own breasts while taking deep, feel-good breaths.  

All of your breath is quickly taken away when Jesse bends your legs back ‘til your knees are next to your ears. Ass in the air and he spears his length into you in one fell swoop. Grasping onto his forearms, you hang on while he gives you exactly what was expected in the first place. Slamming into your wet cunt, rutting into you so deep tears form at the corners of your eyes. 

“Holy shit, sweetheart- God, damn– fuck…” McCree starts up, burying his cock inside of you. Griding into your insides, dangerously close to cumming- “You’re so fuckin’ tight.” 

It’s only a few more thrusts before he’s growling and cursing up a storm. Quickly pulling out of you, letting his cum shoot where it wills. Most of it landing in lengthy dollops on your chest, some of it reaching so far to splash perfectly over your lips. Licking them, you hum. Run your hands along Jesse’s chest ‘til he collects himself enough to let your legs go. 

Before McCree can fully move out from between your legs, you’re already rolling over and crawling towards your daddy. Jesse decides to plop right down where you’re leaving him at, seeing as he’s got a great view of your backside. While Gabe’s got a view of your messy hair, and a sex drunk smile on your face. Face and body rose-tinted in all the best places. 

Using his knees you lift yourself up and drape over one of his muscle rich thighs. Laying your face down just next to his muscle carved V, you lazily take the head of his cock into your mouth. Bob your head slowly back and forward, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. Subtly taking more and more of him in ‘til you’ve got a steady bulge poking the inside of your cheek out. Just taking a break by languidly getting your daddy primed. 

Gabe lovingly brushes your hair behind your ear. Gliding his hand over your head, smoothing out your frazzled mess of hair. Enjoying the casual head, allowing you to go at your own pace. “Spoiled,” he muses. Looking up at him you nod your head, agreeing with him, with your mouth still full. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Princess,” he says. Gabe pulls your mouth off of his length with a tight grip weaved into your hair. His dick popping out of your mouth, trailing saliva from your bottom lip to his shaft. He guides you up, your hands clinging to his stomach muscles, trying to brace yourself. Practically crawling your way up his body. 

When he gets you close enough he kisses you deeply. Your jaw falling slack, letting him shove his tongue into your mouth. Crooning and scrambling to get into his lap so he can give you more. You want for him to surround you with his arms, to press your bare body to his own and absorb all of his musk and heat.  

“Do you feel good? Taken care of?” He asks, not removing his lips from yours. Barely getting his questions in between eager licks and hungry kisses.   

You nod,  _yes_. Grinning wide against his mouth. Breathing heavily into his own. All of your words lost, but you can still communicate well enough. 

“Safe?” He asks; another fervent nod of your head following shortly after. Coupled with something that vaguely sounds like a ‘yeah.’ “Remember this… the next time you let a boy be-  _nice,_  to you.”    

Breaking the kiss, you lick him from mouth to ear and whisper, “Nobodies ever gonna remotely compare to you, Daddy.” 

Even though he already knows it, is sure of it, that’s what he likes to hear. Suddenly he flips you over, faced down on the couch. A little yelp of glee and surprise accompanying the action. Gabriel manipulates your body like a ragdoll. Hiking one of your legs up with ease, your foot dangling off the edge of the couch. Holds one of your arms behind your back while he mounts you and eases his cock inside of your pliant, insatiable body.  

There are few things that fuel his ego more than how exuberant you are the moment he’s inside of you. Craning your neck so you can get a look at him as he immediately pounds his cock in to the hilt. Mouth agape, loud moans filling the room, hands reaching back to grasp at his thighs. 

Laying down on top of you he kisses and nibbles at the underside of your ear. Swiftly licks a couple of his fingers and shoves his hand between his hip and the leg he hiked. Rudely rubs your nub, brutally snaps his hips against your ass. Instantly warranting a faraway, dumbed-out look on your face.  

With the abundant stamina of a super soldier, Gabriel gives it to you at a steady, fast pace. Reams and massages you through a couple of loud wailing orgasms before he starts to feel like he’s on the brink. Your velvet walls still hugging his cock sporadically. He’s breathing heavily into your ear, baring his teeth against your delicate skin, feeling dangerously close to being out of control. 

“Nobodies  _ever_ – gonna love you like me– understand?” More of a statement than a question, deep and lowly in your ear. Growling at the end, possessively biting your earlobe. Just as he feels the warmth in his belly flood into his cock he asks, “Who’s my princess?”

“I a-am, daddy.” You practically sob. Taking a deep, sharp breath. The simple three words taking away all the breath you had. 

Gabe drives himself into you as deep as he can go. Grunts, animalistic in your ear. Shooting thick, rich rope after rope of cum deep inside of his baby girl. You can feel it all flooding your insides, hot and welcome. Moaning as it pools and starts to seep out of your cunt before your daddy has even pulled out of you. 

He grasps the underside of your chin. Pulls you up, cranes your neck, bends your back so he can kiss you as he continues to grind his seed into you. Then he abruptly lets you go, pulls out and smacks your ass. Demanding that you stick it up so he can watch as the mess he left inside of you floods from your well-used hole. 

Both of the boys are ready for you again. When Genji moved back to sit next to Jesse, Gabriel doesn’t know. Moved to both get out of his way, and get a better view; the cowboy had the right idea, staying put. 

With your daddy’s blessing, you’ll crawl back onto the floor, and sit in both your uncles’ laps. Keep yourself full and ride out this treat Gabe’s given you ‘til you’re tired and sore; ready to pass out in a pile of strong bodies who were all here just to make you feel like the dirty little princess you are. Knowing no one can provide safety and pleasure like your Papi.        

 

 


	65. Yandere!Genji x Sister!reader (Part 1)

If only you knew how lovely your followers think you are. All of the beautiful complements, all of the phrase, all of the heart-centric emojis that get left as comments on your photos. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel the need to fuss so much over your appearance, or perhaps you’d fuss more; who knows. 

Genji watches you through a slit in your closet doors, sitting at your vanity with a small displeased frown on your face. Hair going up and then down. Braided and unbraided. Winged eyeliner wiped off of your eye multiple times to be replaced each time with a line that is cleaner and more sharper than the last. 

Genji snaps a photo while you’ve got a bobby pin between your teeth and your hair in your hands. Brows furrowed in concentration, frustrated because a certain piece of hair refuses to cooperate. Not even dressed yet, still clad in your robe. Your shower ran five minutes too long today. You’re going to be late for your lessons at this rate. 

Then he sinks back into your closet, leaning against the wall admiring the picture, thinking up a caption. It’s not long before he’s typing:

_“My gorgeous girl’s feeling insecure today. Even with worry lines she’s perfect. Give her some love, yeah?”_

And… posted.

Immediately the likes and comments start flooding in. Many of your followers who are demanding, albeit playfully, that he makes sure to lift you up, to give you assurances. It is his job, as a loving boyfriend, to make sure you don’t continue to feel insecure. 

The comments inflate his ego and his lies. Fill his false sense of ownership over you. Yes, duh, of course, it’s his job to ensure you that you’re perfect, amazing. There’s no one else who would be able to say it with nearly as much sincerity as he can. No one else would go to such great lengths to capture your candid moments like him. 

Some even joke,  _“Is the girl aware she’s got a whole blog dedicated to her smh”_

No.

Genji practically feels giddy from all of the vindication. So giddy and enraptured in the false life he built for the two of you that he nearly misses you dropping your robe to the ground. Your bare bottom and back still a bit dewy from your morning shower. Genji goes from feeling giddy to feeling foggy and hot. Blood swelling in his cock, his breath becoming shallow.   

Suddenly the closet feels too small. Like the walls are starting to pulsate around him as you pick out your matching underwear for the day. Nothing he would consider sultry, it’s a rather cute matching set. This fog, this dizziness, has been happening to him more and more often. The impulse to make himself known, to just throw open the doors, and bring his internet life with you into reality. 

Surely you would be happy to know that so many people love you because of him… right? That so many people wait with baited breath for the next photo depicting his relationship with you to be posted. So they can gush, praise, and wish and wish that they had what you and Genji have. 

Then you bend down to put on your underwear. Even for all of the static fuzz in his brain, the way the world bends when he’s this close to your naked form, he is still able to think quick enough. Snaps photo after photo, a couple of which come out just right. A side shot where your arm blocks out the view of your breasts, your butt only exposed so much. A little racy, but not so racy that it wouldn’t fit in nicely on the blog. 

Genji quickly touches up the photo with a blur that makes the room around you go out of focus, the only thing clearly visible being you. He posts the photo with the caption: 

 _“If only we did not have somewhere to be_ ❤︎ _“_

There’s no time to let the comments feed the hungry, obsessed beast always sitting at the forefront of his brain.Genji’s going to have to duck out, as you’re coming to your closet to finish getting dressed. 

Just as you are sliding open the doors, Genji is disappearing into a not-so-secret corridor in the wall, and closing the panel at the back. Silent, quick, you’ll never know he was there. Not that you aren’t aware the compartment is there, it used to be your favorite spot during hide-and-seek as kids.  

Now he waits. Waits in the hall just outside of your room. Listens for the sound of your door opening and the pitter patter of your feet as you run to try and be a little less late for your tutoring. When he does hear it his heart rate quickens, he waits just a little bit longer and runs after you. 

“Eh, ‘Sis! Wait up!” 

You come to a halt. Spin around, ponytail swinging wildly with the momentum. A big grin on your face. Man, that would have made a great picture.  

“Genji! Good morning!” You say cheerfully. 

Genji feigns heavily breath as if he has been running from his room to this point. When really he’s breathing clearer, getting all the oxygen he needs now that he’s close to you, fully dressed, and has had the pleasure of hearing your voice. 

“You late too?” He asks.  

“Ugh, yeah– this is the third time this week. Mrs. Yumi’s gonna be so sour with me,” you say.   

“She will get over it-” Genji leans in close, taking ‘notice’ of your eyeliner- “Your wings are killer today, ‘Sis.” 

Your face turns into a shining beam of a smile. “Oh! Thanks!” 

That’s the first time you’ve smiled today, he was the one who did that for you. Gave you a reason to be happy, to feel good. Genji can feel the dopamine flooding his brain, as it must be flooding yours. Then he gets a whiff of your perfume; soft floral blossoms and citrus, suddenly his head is spinning again.

Ignoring the lub-dubs in his ears he says, “They’re so sharp you could slit a man’s throat.” Warranting an even bigger grin, and an adorable blush.   

“Exactly as they should be!” You say enthusiastically, jumping up to give him a quick hug. He resists the urge to hang onto you. To cling to your body and bury his face in your neck. Letting you go, you turn away from him and continue on your way. “I’m sorry, I really have to go!” 

“Don’t let Mrs. Yumi guilt trip you too much!” He yells as you continue on your way. 

Giggling you absentmindedly state that that is impossible. Then you pause your progress one more time, to grant him with a gift. 

“Hey! You wanna have lunch with me later?” 

Yes. Absolutely. As if he’d ever turn down an invitation from you. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes from bulging out of his head, to keep from sounding too eager.  

“Yeah! Sounds great, I’ll text you!” 

Genji doesn’t have anywhere he needs to be. So he makes himself some breakfast and takes a seat on his balcony. Hardly touching his food as he’s obsessively scrolling through comments, looking at the notifications on the latest picture. It’s a hit with your followers, as most of your pictures are. 

An old, old follower of yours makes a suggestion: 

 _“U love birds ever consider making a nsfw blog >_>_  _just a thot plz dont hate me”_

Warmth floods in his belly; brings his erection back to his attention. Yes, he has considered it. Genji’s considered it a lot. These days it’s nearly all that he can think about. Taking yours and his internet relationship to the next level, sharing every aspect of the beloved couples life. Funny how one simple comment could break down the little self-control he had, gives him confidence to put a plan into motion to do just that. 

Now that he thinks about it, the blogs one-year anniversary is coming up soon. What better way to celebrate it than to start a whole new blog. One with an explicit eighteen and over tag, and even more pictures, possibly some videos of you. 


	66. Yandere!Genji x Sister!reader (Part 2)

In your eyes (and they’re the only ones that matter) Genji’s being such a good brother, and has obviously found his way into your favor. In an attempt to be a “better brother” a little over a month ago now, he suggested that you and he start a new family tradition. At least once a week (more if schedules will allow it) have night time tea together.  

The suggestion had made you so emotional. Tears in your eyes and an elated smile on your face. 

_“I’d love that, Genji!”_

So for at least once a week for the past four weeks, he’s been sitting down and making your nightly tea. Slipping you sedatives that are smart. So manipulative in their nature that they make you believe, time after time, that you’re getting sleepy naturally. Seeping into your muscles, gradually making your eyes red and glassy, heavy with fatigue. Until you just  _have_  to leave him to go to bed.

The first tea time didn’t go quite as he had expected it to. Genji had such confidence. So cocky, that he really believed he’d be in control of his emotions; it’ll never be that way around you. Thought he’d be able to sneak back into your room after he’s “left” you for the night, and get a picture worth christening the new NSFW blog with.

Instead, when he got back in there and found you knocked out cold, he was inexplicably nervous. Shook every time he went to lift up your shirt or hook a finger into the hem of your pajama pants. The newfound power to be as close to as possible to you turning out to be a weight he’d need to get used to.  

So he laid next to you for hours. A leg was thrown over your body, hands feather-like as he roamed. Not getting a wink, and only leaving when the sun started to rise.

The second time he was much, much braver. Helped by the alcohol he slipped into his own drink. Genji simply couldn’t continue to waste his time with you.

That night he got a picture worthy of putting on the blog. One where he had your shirt pulled up, nipples just peaking, your hand placed on top of his own, while he was straddling your hips. The picture angled perfectly to keep your slack, sleeping face out of it.

A little editing magic later and it came out great. Garnering praises of  _“can’t wait for more!” “fuck she’s hot” “I wish someone would play with my tits :/”_

From then on the pictures only got braver and lewder. The next it was your ass and a sneak peek at his cock, hidden by most of his hand but snug between your cheeks. The next with three of his fingers shoved into your gaping mouth. Covered in saliva, many wishing it was his cock, but they’ll take it.  

Tonight you’re enthusiastically telling him about your day. Absentmindedly touching his arm, leaning into him, grinning and complaining about your mutual big brother Hanzo.

What Hanzo did he doesn’t know. Genji’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest that he can hardly hear you over the beat of his own blood in his ears. It’s a wonder to him that you don’t see it, the effect you have him by just being.

Usually, he’d be all for hearing anything you have to say. For savoring each time your breath ghosts across his face when you lean in just a little too close. The whispers of the herbs that waft from your mouth to his nose. But he’s all out of the good shit tonight. Had to make do with some stuff that’s going to make you really drowsy fast, and hit you hard.  

It’s barely five minutes into tea time and he can already see the sway in your torso. The red, glassiness in your eyes. All the yawning coming on far too fast. But this is just one instance of fast onsetting fatigue, it won’t stick in your mind for too long.

Shaking out your arms you shake your head from side to side. Rub your eyes vigorously with the palms of your hands.

“Wow… I am exhausted all-of-a-sudden.” Taking the last sip of your tea you look at him with a solemn smile. “I’m sorry to cut this so short but-” y _aaawn-_ “I  _really_  got to go to bed.”  

While walking you to your room you sway and nearly fall. Genji has to help you walk, and at one point you seem to be questioning whether or not you should be seeing the family doctor. Genji ignores it; you won’t remember this stumble to your bedroom in the morning anyway. So you won’t be holding it against him.

He manages to get you to your bed just as you pass out. Being unprepared for it, he falls onto the bed with you. Now he’s lost to it. It feels like romance to him. Genji stays there on top of you kissing your slack lips, suckling on the nape of your neck. Breathing in the unique scent of your perfume, the shampoo of your hair. He can feel it all settling in his lungs, coursing through his blood. 

Genji’s so stuck in the moment, in slowly groping and running his hands over your body, slipping them under your shirt, and undressing you, that it takes him dangerously long to remember that he hadn’t closed your door. He’s quick to hop off of the bed. Surveying the hallway outside of your room he doesn’t find anyone. No guards, maids, or other staff; seems luck is on his side this time.

Back on the bed, Genji bends back your legs with two grips under each of your knees. It’s vindicating, almost feels like too much to him; just how much your body has responded to him despite your unawareness. The erect, pebbled nipples, your wet cunt and the flush in your cheeks. The rare, lovely but terrifying hums or moans. 

Genji takes his time sinking his cock inside of you. Nervousness coming back with a vengeance. He keeps just he head in, staying still. Body twitching, arms not feeling quite as strong as they usually do, breath erratic. Head spinning as he leans forward to nuzzle and lick your nipples. Genji whimpers and moans unapologetically, you feel even better than he always fantasied that you would. 

Genji allows himself to sink into you a little fuller. Watching your face for any signs of disturbance. He had grown to trust the other sedative, this one being new and not as high grade, it might have its faults. But it’s holding strong and you look just has gone as the first moment your eyes closed. Breathing heavily with deep sleep.

Finally, when he’s fully sheathed he rocks into you, bare chest rising and falling with each one. Throwing your ankles over his shoulders he lays down on top of you and fucks you as hard as he wants to. If you wake, you wake. If only you should know the lengths he goes just to be close to you, just show everyone how perfect you are. 

Soon enough he’s teetering on the edge. Not quite far gone enough to cum inside of you. Abruptly he pulls out, letting your legs fall down on the bed with two separate heavy thuds and jerks his cock through his end. All of his ribbons of seed spurting onto your stomach, glittering your tits.  

Looking at all the cum on your belly the few glistening splashes on your chest he’s thinking that’ll make a great photo. So he does what he does best. Takes the photo, manipulates it and posts it. It’ll be the most popular post on the blog yet. Doesn’t bother with a caption, the picture speaks enough for itself.


	67. Daddycree x Daughter!reader (Deflowering, Oversensitivity)

Poor thing; taking cock is just so overwhelming. Especially one as heavy and strong as his. No matter where your hands roam they can’t seem to find their rightful place. Reaching back to claw at his thigh, hands scrambling at the sheets, then back up into your own hair.  

Hips with minds of their own; that are indecisive. One moment they pull away, trying to find relief from the pressure deep inside your now deflowered cunt. The next they’re pushing back, circling, grinding; chasing the feeling that is causing your good sense of mind to flee.

The proclamations coming from your gaping lips are a mixed bag; he’s never heard you cuss so much in your entire life, or plead for nothing in particular. For how much he’s had a dirty mouth around you from the moment you popped out of your mother’s womb, you never did pick up the habit. Barely picked up a God damn thing from him. Growing into this immaculate young woman that he can barely believe grew from his own seed.

When your face disappears from sight, buried in the sheets, hiccuping and sobbing it makes his chest puff with his overinflated ego. McCree always knew he’d be able to make his baby feel religion; you just needed to give into his charms; trust him when he says he’s got enough courage for the both of you.

Now you’ve found your security: a pillow. Hugged between both of your arms. The perfect companion you can bury your face in it, keeps your hands occupied, or bite it through a particularly strong pang of pleasure.

You’re  _so_  gloriously sensitive; something he will be exploiting. Already came before he had a chance to fully stuff your molten-hot pink with his cock. Been nothing but a good girl (a prude in certain people’s respects) your whole life. Never touched yourself, never let yourself be touched.

Each stroke coming afterwords upping that sensitivity. Even for how ungodly tight your pussy is; wet with a consistent flutter, he’s not close to cumming. McCree’s been around the block far too many times to cum that easily, and won’t be showing you any mercy. He’s a man of control and frankly doesn’t feel the need or the desire to rush.

Maybe a small part of him enjoys taking his time, largely in part cause you took yours giving him what he’s been begging for for years. Very, very few people in his life get to see him as anything or than a ruthless leader. But you, you get to see him on his knees, your quote-unquote “teddy bear.” There’s no hard feelings, he worships the ground you walk on; would have begged and waited for years and years more, it’s just…. so  _satisfying._

Satisfying to have you bent over, (per your request; too timid, full of nerves to look at his naked body and the intimidating size of his cock; as you wish, he’ll fuck you however and whenever you want) ass naked as the day you were born. Shaking and twitching, at a total loss of control over your own body. Shivering like your standing in the middle of a snowstorm. Chanting his name (daddy) muffled into the pillow.

McCree’s going to be hard-pressed to find anything more satisfying. No matter how many men he puts down, the thugs that he bends to his will, how many rooms he walks into that just fall dead silent at his presence, the heists that go perfectly to plan. Nothing’s ever going to compare to this.

Seeing as you’re his one and only baby girl, and not just another walking, paid, fuck hole, he’s been holding back. Curious because you’re already out of your mind trying to handle what he’s giving to you: long, languid strokes; pauses and deep sheaths, leaning his weight into the swell of your ass. Jittery legs lift and kick each time, with a whine that sounds like a complaint. McCree petting your back, keeping you soothed, he does care about your comfort.

If he’s ever going fuck you properly you’re going have to get used to the feeling of having him balls deep. So he does it again, settling in, and holds onto your indecisive hips so they don’t get away from him. On queue you cry out, legs lifting, but then your toes curl with  _another_  orgasm.

“Oh… ooh…  _fuck,_  daddy… please… please…” 

“You’re okay, baby,” he says relieving some of the pressure by pulling back, about half mass. Spreads your cheeks just to take a look at your puffy cunt. Red, strained and glistening with slick. His shaft coated in your cream; surprisingly void of blood. “Just remember, you’re made for me.”  

Nodding fervently in agreement you take the pillow back between your teeth. Eyes glazing over as you stare at a fixed point on the wall. 

McCree hates to have to take you away from your security, but that pillow isn’t going to be enough to keep your arms secured in one place in a moment. So he takes your wrists and pins them down, leaves the pillow for you to bury your face into, treat as rudely as you’d like with those bared teeth of yours. 

Steadily picks up his pace. No more pausing, just a steady rhythm. The faster he goes, the more strangled your moaning and groaning becomes. Something akin to a guttural animal-like sound coming from your chest. 

“Be as loud as ya wanna, sugar.” He rolls into you faster, feeling the beginning of the pressure in his belly. His cock swelling, the heat in his chest rising. “Let all them crude cowboys hear ya.” 

About now’s the time when his mind gets a little clouded. Starts to feel the primal urge just to fill you up with his cum; get his DNA as deep inside your body as he can. Hips snapping harshly, the room loud with the sounds of sex. Unable (not that he’s trying) to keep his own mouth shut. Growling, grunting, and telling you just how good your cunt feels.  

McCree stays there in his cloud. Savoring the heat; the build up. Fucks the loudest orgasm from you yet. If he didn’t know any better he could have sworn that one was killing you. Grits his teeth and grunts through the urge to come to his end for as long as he willfully can. Before he can’t hold back anymore and cums harder than he can ever remember cumming. 

He stays sheathed in you for a few moments longer. Just grinding, waiting for his brain to make it back up from the head of his cock back into his skull where it belongs. Slowly pulls out of you when he’s got his senses back. His cock popping out of your reamed cunt like a cork, cum seeping from your hole. 

McCree flips you over, not giving you a chance to be self-conscious about your exposed front or his. Throws you onto the bed and crawls on top. Kisses you proper. Real deep, a little messy. 

“Thank you, baby girl.” 

“You’re welcome,” you say sleepily. Humming musically you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist, clinging to your bear. 


	68. BrotherReinhardt x Sister!Reader

“I may never return!” Your brother exclaims, as quietly as he can manage. Arms outstretched as they engulf your waist. 

“Your ego is too big to allow you to die,” you counter. 

A big grin spread across Reinhardt’s face. With his brain being deep, deep in the gutter perhaps that was the exact wrong thing to say. Especially if you were trying to pull him out of it. Maybe you’re not trying that hard, and you just like playing hard to get. He’s really cute when he’s begging. 

 _“T-Minus 23 minutes until mission launch,”_ Gertrude informs over the dropship PA system.

Suddenly you’re turned around so fast you nearly get whiplash. Lifted up and thrown down on the table displaying the halo map and their destination. Two big hands pull you back, fumble with the zipper of your pants, and roughly tug them down to mid-thigh. 

“We must hurry!” Reinhardt grinds his fat erection against your exposed backside. The jingle of his belt reverberating off of the metal walls. He says cheekily, “They will be filing in any moment now!” 

Looking to the door it’s wide open. You know the habits of the crusaders and the soldiers that fight alongside them, they’ll stay in the taverns drinking and being merry, until the very last moment when they’ll need to rush on into the hanger in order to avoid getting reprimanded. 

Not that that fact totally negates the other fact that the sun is high in the sky, the hangar door is large, a big window into the depravity happening within it. But your big brother (both in age and stature) either doesn’t care, or the threat is just making his dick harder. With his reckless nature, something tells you it’s the latter.  

A large dollop of spit slides between your cheeks, settles into your folds. The wide expanse of the head of his cock presses insistently against your entrance. No amount of lube in the world could ever keep the initial stretch of your brother from burning. A sensation you’ve grown to crave and love; something none of the soldiers you used to let into your body could accomplish. 

Much like he always does Rein uses his great strength to slam you back on his length. Quickly building up the pressure both in his and your belly. Your gaze hasn’t left the entrance of the dropship, and even through all of the abrupt sensations, how full your cunt is, the constant slam of weighty cock against your cervix has you a hair away from cumming, you’re still aware of the soldiers in the distance headed right for you. 

“Ficken cum, Bruder!”

Through his boisterous grunts and growls, he chuckles. “Gerne, mein maus!”

The final few slams into your body send you into a shaking orgasmic mess. Your vision wavers and Rein does indeed cum. He cums loudly and deeply inside of you, shooting ropes of thick, rich seed. As soon as he’s done he pulls out, the void feeling immediate, reminding you of just how void you always feel after he’s had his way with you. 

Quickly you hop down off of the table, Rein’s quick to keep you on your feet as your legs have lost some of their strength. After you’ve secured your modesty, you spin around and smack him on the chest. 

“You’re  _so_  loud!” You chide breathlessly.  

Rein’s about to no doubt shamelessly inform you of how much you like it, when General Balderich walks through the door, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. The two of you are known, generally, for making trouble together, so the look is not surprising or alarming. 

“Hmm.” Balderich’s chest rumbles with his contemplation. “I sense some nonsense to be afoot.”


	69. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader (Omo)

These are the kinda moments McCree lives for. The ones when he’s reminded just how lucky a daddy he is. Not that it’s something that’s easy to forget. When he comes home day after day and his baby girl’s just happy, so eager to grind on him and mewl in his ear, like she’s a horny kitten in perpetual heat. 

Licking and trying to claw him up to boot. He doesn’t gotta do a thing to get you all riled up. Just comes home settles in and you’re more than happy to (and downright pouty if you don’t get to) crawl into his lap and show him just how much you’ve missed your papa over the long, long hours. 

Dragging your nails through his beard, giving him kisses, running your tongue all over his neck, working blood to the surface of his skin with all your suckling. Making his cock throb with blood, and giving him something he’s gonna have to explain later to fellow agents and higher-ups.

_“Who you been letting eat you up, Agent McCree?”_

_“Now, ‘M not a man who kisses ‘n’ tells.”  
_

Wearing one of his flannel shirts, looking like a short nightgown. It’s not necessary for you to lift it up, the spread of your legs over his thigh is enough to pull it up. Exposing the swell of your ass, and the thin, cheeky cotton panties that strain to cover your gorgeous hills. 

McCree just leans back and enjoys as you enjoy yourself. Grinding your little pussy against his thigh, working yourself up into a slick lather. Uses his leg to coax the necessary amount of pressure required to bring you right to the brink of cumming right in his ear. Palming the bulge in his jeans, teasing the zipper. Making him weak; making him whine. Your ability to keep both him and yourself on the brink is both excruciating and blissful.

As the time glides by his shirt comes open. Freed his ruddy, messy cock from the confines of his jeans, only to tease it in your hand. Stroking languidly and massaging circles around the head. Panties tugged to the side, bare cunt and slick just barely grinding against him, too dangerously close to edge for fervent gyrations. 

Leaving him hanging every time he’s a fool enough (or smart enough) to say that he’s close. Until the both of you are at your limit; his stomach rising and falling rapidly. Saying “baby” over and over, begging for whatever the hell you feel like letting him have. Well, maybe it’s specifically for release but he’s not sure if he quite wants it yet. Your thighs twitching with the promise of an impending orgasm. 

Then your body leaves you no choice but to cum. It starts with a small whine, an arch of your back. It’s an intense one, and exactly what you were after. Small whines turning into louder ones. A white-knuckled grip on the tale of his shirt. Those lovely thighs shaking as you try and keep your rhythm, but quickly it’s gone as your pleasure makes you lose your bodily control in more ways than one.

An abrupt expanse of warmth coats his thigh as his own ropes of heat line his chest. Too preoccupied with his own after pangs to notice how embarrassed you are, or to fully process or care about the little accident you had on his thigh.  

“Oh, sorry, daddy!” You exclaim as you’re about to spring off of him to go and grab some towels, but Jesse holds you fast. Two muscle toned hands gripping the meat of your hips. He pulls you back down, shoving his hand into your underwear. Warranting an aghast look on your face, being both soaked and sensitive. 

“Hmm; thought you were daddy’s big girl.” He teases, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a slight grin, as you pout at the comment. “This is suggestin’ otherwise.”

Not giving you too much time to over think it he buries his fingers in your heat. Immediately pumps it in and out, your eyes rolling back. He’s not about to let your little accident ruin your mood. The pout on your face disappearing into a pleasured ‘o’. You’d gone ruby red from your chagrin, and he’s gonna keep that color by working you into another orgasm. 

This time there’s nothing methodical about your orgasm. McCree fingering you fast enough that you’re doubling over begging him to stop. 

“Please, daddy, I’ma pee again,” you whine.  

That just sounds like encouragement to him. McCree works it out of you and you wet yourself just as you had warned. Not nearly as much as the first, but just enough to coat his hand and make your post-torture lewdly loud. Keeps stroking your pink ‘til you physically reach down and remove his hand.

He kisses your forehead and says, “Let’s get cleaned up, huh?”  


	70. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader

One of these days he’s going to get you to admit it. He just wants to hear it come from your own lips: How addicted he has you, how you’ve become the cutest, most timid cock slut McCree’s ever seen. He’s gathered that you enjoy being ignored; you don’t need the attention just the meat in his pants.

It’s routine now, any moment you can find where he’s seated, and seated for long enough for you to wordlessly unbuckle his pants, play with and suckle his cock like it’s your new security blanket. So needy for it. Strange how the tables have turned, though it’s not like he’s denying you any of it, so that ain’t exactly a fair expression.    

Turns out you’re quite the pillow princess in the bedroom, and McCree’s happy to serve you. Natural for a daddy to want to spoil his little girl so it seems only right. It’s normal par for the course for you to not ask for what you want but to show it. Ready to turn in for the night you lay down next him in the bed you share together. Arch your back, and grind your ass against his crotch, as you’re tugging down your panties.

McCree huffs, he’s a simple man and he gets the hint. Seeing as his blood is warm with whiskey, mind dirtied with thoughts of you, he was a cock flex away from trying to see if you were in the mood anyway.

Head already laying in the crook of his arm it’s easy for him to just… curl it around your neck in a soft stranglehold. Light enough to allow you to breathe, but strong enough to warrant that breathing to become heavier. Reaches down to take his cock out from the slit of his boxers. Lets it rest hot and heavy against the small of your back, while he slips a couple of fingers between your cheeks, pleased to find that you’re ready for him.

“Ya ever think ‘bout anythin’ else these days?” He teases as he massages the chest warming amount of slick around your hole. Bringing a vindicating bright pink, shamed blush to your cheeks.  

You actually speak! Low, barely audible with your face turning away from him, trying to disappear into that damned pillow. “Not much.”

He kisses your cheek, grins against your ear as he presses the head of his cock to your entrance. McCree growls, bites your earlobe, and breaches your tight hole with a single roll of his hips. 

“Mmmm; for  _shame_ , what’d I do teh deserve such a disgustin’ little girl?”

The breath catches in your chest as he continues to stretch you open and fill you up. The first string of quiet, breathy expletives leaving your lips as soon as you gather enough air to let them out. The muscle of his arm doesn’t allow you to easily hide your face. Allowing him to see all the beautiful twists and curls of pleasure that play across your features as he thrusts into you.

If he didn’t know better he’d think you were in pain. Being tortured, having a bad time. But he does know better, and you’re already clamping down around his length; walls rapidly fluttering; head thrown back. Crying out like some kinda bonafide porn star.  

McCree wonders if his cock was attached to any other man if it would be able to pull you undone this quickly. Or if you just get off this much on fucking your papa. He’s of half the mind to try and test it. The thought of watching one of his thugs attempt to work the same amount of expression from you as he can, causes his cock to swell.

Convincing his timid baby girl to spread her legs for another man, and allow her papa to watch her do it? Now that would take some extra special coaxing and charm on his part. His train of thought comes to a halt, grins as you cum again. This time due to the hand he has wedged between your legs, absentmindedly toying with your clit, making you tremble.

“Daddy… nnng– ah… daddy? Daddy?” 

Oh. You’re trying to speak to him. Not just proclaiming his name. He slows but doesn’t stop. Takes some time to really settle himself in deep.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” 

Then you turn your head to look at him. And this throws him off a little, makes him pause for a moment. That’s unusual, even when you’re just talking to him in the moments of everyday life, bold eye contact is rare.

“Can I have your baby?” You ask in a whisper, with puppy dog eyes and a little pout, he’s not the only one who can turn on the charms. 

“Ya want me teh knock ya up?” 

You nod with certainty. McCree can see both the fire and sincerity in your eyes. Goosebumps raised on the inside of your thighs as they clamp down on his hand. Cheeks flushing ruby red at the mere thought. His own chest simmers at the idea, thrusting into you roughly, deeply, arm tightening around your neck.    

“I’ll get’cha pregnant, baby.”

 

 


	71. Yandere!Hanzo/Genji x Sister!reader (noncon)

Blood floods your ears, coursing fast through your veins. Adrenaline pumping, your legs feeling both heavy and itchy for the flight. It can’t be… it just  _can’t_  be.

“The world could always use more heroes,” Genji says sarcastically. Chuckling darkly, sitting on your kitchen counter in a casual manner. A leg kicked up, arm thrown over his knee. Having just asked you if you’d like to join Overwatch; as if he has ever given you a choice.  

This can’t be happening. You were free. Free! Genji’s supposed to be dead, and even if you have harsh feelings for Hanzo just has deep-seated as you do for Genji, you did have him to thank for your escape from the hell they were putting you through. Years and years of manipulation, being forced upon. Never lived without a pair of watchful eyes. Walked on eggshells, sometimes downright were afraid for your life.

Much like you are now.   

“You are supposed to be dead.” 

Genji places a dramatic hand to his chest, head tilting to the side in feigned hurt. He had to remove his faceplate in order to make you believe him when he says he is who he is, a dramatic pout on his lips. 

“My heart! ‘Sis, you sound disappointed.” 

Taking careful steps backward you’re moments away from going for the window. Throwing it open, scaling down the building and disappearing. 

“I don’t believe she is happy to see us, brother.” 

“Brother?” You question.  

Suddenly the next step you take back connects you with a solid, muscle rich wall. The tears that lined your eyes fall as you slowly turn around and are faced with your eldest brother. Turns out Genji’s not the only one who looks different. The changes may not be as dramatic or life-changing, but the angles of his face have only gotten harsher over the years, his eyes darker. With his facial hair, he looks so much like father, it’s like seeing a ghost; chilling.  

“That is my fault,” Hanzo says. “The absent years has reverted all of our progress.” 

“Shouldn’t the two of you be at each other’s throats?” You ask with a snarl and some spite in your tone. 

“We have a mutual goal,” Hanzo states. 

You didn’t hear Genji hop down off the counter, or come up behind you. “My master says growth does not happen by chance-” Fingers ghost down your spine, over the swell of your ass- “It is a result of forces working together.”

“He tried to kill you, Genji,” you growl, trying to pit them against eachother. Maybe if you can hit a nerve it’ll allow for enough of an opening and you can run. “Don’t you want revenge?”

“Forgiveness does not change the past,” Genji says in a mocking tone; what you’re assuming is this ‘Master’s’ dialect, “But it does enlarge the future.” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite your tongue baiting back the ‘ _oh, fuck off_ ’ sitting on the tip of it. It’d only make whatever’s coming to you even worse. 

They’re both closing in on you. At this point, it’s now or never so you try and bolt out from between the two of them. Throwing an elbow up into Hanzo’s face, intent on bringing it back down into Genji’s gut proves to be futile. Hanzo blocks it with his arm and backhands you across the face, catching you by your neck before the force is able to throw you to the ground. Grabs a hold and squeezes, holding you still as Genji’s arms snake around your waist. 

“Just let me live my life,” you beg. 

Hanzo scoffs, nods towards the general vicinity of your apartment. 

“In this squalor? You have hardly changed, Aneki. Endlessly naive, you still need us to take care of you.”   

The pressure on your neck grows ‘til you’re banging on his tree trunk of an arm, face turning purple; sick, desperate gurgles in your throat and the darkness closes in, staving off the burning in your lungs. A small peace; as waking a short time later the burning as moved from your lungs to the walls of your cunt. 

Skirt lifted, underwear gone. Head cradled against Hanzo’s shoulder with one hand, a leg lifted with his other. Genji slamming your limp body back on his length. There’s not much else you can do, so you throw your arms around Hanzo’s neck and just take it. Silently cry and whimper, nuzzling your face against his collarbone. He  _is_  warm, and this feels better than fighting.   

Hanzo pets your hair and hums, pleased. “She is falling back into old habits easily.”

Genji slows so Hanzo can transfer you over to him. He holds your head back using a grip on your chin, an arm hooked under that same leg. Thrusts slowly as he talks to you in your ear. 

“Of course you are,” His cock slides easier now, your body doing you a favor by producing slick. It’s at the very least, not physically agonizing anymore, “Cause this feels like home; doesn’t it, ‘Sis?”  

When Genji’s done with you, sex disgustingly wet with his cum, he lets you drop down to your knees. Yanks your head back with fingers interweaved in your hair so Hanzo can better stick his erection in your face. Length already out, ruddy, and wet with precum. Hanzo shoves a thumb into your mouth, hooks it over your bottom teeth and pries it open. Slides his cock in, while Genji helps to force your head further onto it.   

“If you bite, I will bite back,” Hanzo warns. 

As the tip breeches the back of your throat you gag violently, clinging to the front of his pants for support. He fucks your mouth, with no regard to how hard it is making you retch, or how many tears are falling down your face. Nose stuffy from all the crying, you can hardly breathe. A constant bubble of panic welled up in your chest.  

Feels like forever ‘til he cums. And when he does your jaw’s sore, vision blurry. Only made worse by the ropes of seed spurting against your face. 

With you on the floor trying to collect your senses back, using shaky arms and the bottom of your shirt to try and clean your face, both of your brothers become stiff and overt in an alarming moment. 

At first, you think it’s because of something you did, and your heart races all over again. Genji lets go of your hair, and Hanzo unsheaths an arrow, dropping down into a crouch he presses the arrow tip to your lips and places a finger on his own. 

“Commander?” Genji says, giving you a look that further states that you better be quiet. Points to his ear, tapping a finger against his own mouth. “No, unfortunately, it was a dead end, we have not found her yet.” 

As if you couldn’t feel anymore sick; but you do, watching Genji turn on his acting skills. Turning momentarily into a whole new person. Just a normal agent, talking to whichever higher-up is in his ear. Even if they can’t see him, the way he carries himself completely changes. His posture; his aura. Oscar worthy. 

“Understood; we will keep you posted.” 

Hanzo’s staring at your messy face, tapping the arrow against your lips. A contemplative look on his face. “How long do you judge, brother, until she is obedient enough to be trusted?” 

“Give or take two months; she is already so pliant.” 

Hanzo nods in agreement. Finally removes the arrow from your mouth. States, “You are are going to love Gibraltar.” 

 

 


	72. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader somno/noncon/angst (second part)

The body sized crack in the door taunts your near missed freedom. Bags sitting just outside of it. The train will be leaving in thirty minutes, and you had every intention of being on it. Where you would have gotten off, you don’t know. In truth, you didn’t really care. You just wanted out, couldn’t stand to be close to the man you used to idolize and care about above everyone and everything. 

“Please– daddy… please just let me go…” 

The past tense thought hurts your belly. You still love him. It’s just  _how_  much you love him that makes the pain hurt as much as it does. It’s heavy, sitting on your chest, stealing your breath away. It’s just… you need time. Being isolated away from the world together for so long has twisted your daddy’s perspective of you, and yours of his. It’s the only solution. But McCree won’t be giving you time. Won’t see reason; only betrayal.

The tears flow openly as you pitifully try to gain back the right to your own arm. Wrist caught in his tight, bruising grasp. McCree’s sturdier than a deeply rooted tree; you’ve always marveled at how strong he is, (in a complete and utter ‘my daddy’s stronger than  _your_  daddy’ kind of way; something you used to liberally threaten the fleeting bullies with as a kid). Not knowing that one day it would be something to lament.

“Daddy… I– I’ll be back…” You try and reason. But reason’s no good when emotions are so heightened his eyes seem to look different to you; stone cold.  Welcoming face full of aggression. You’re shaking and so is he. You out of fear, him out of anger. His touch feels like agony, it’s too much to bear, knowing that it’s no longer innocent.  

McCree doesn’t say a word, just looks at you as if you’ve just committed the most terrible crime right before his eyes. Repeating yourself, you assure him that you’ll be back (even if you don’t wholly believe it yourself). Tugging so hard that the skin is starting to feel raw in his grasp. If you could  _just_ … get out the door and bolt. Forgo your stuff, you’ll get new things. You just have to  _go_ before there’s truly no hope for salvation.

“I ain’t lettin’ ya quite me, understand?” He states, voice low, void of any soothing drawl. It’s frightening, he might as well be a stranger shaking you so hard your head nearly whips against the doorframe. 

Then anger wells over, unexpected, like an explosion. Suddenly your free hand flies up, open palmed, and smacks him across the face, twice. Mere bee stings, but his own freehand flies up and backhands you in return. Much harder and with much more strength than your own violent retaliation. As you fall to your knees, McCree slams the door closed with an elbow. The wall shaking, the brash sound jarring. Shutting away your freedom and sealing your fate.

On your knees sobbing so hard it churns your belly, threatens bile in your throat. So unspeakably shocked, he’s never so much as spanked you before. There’s nothing much you can do, helpless in the face of your daddy’s blind passion. McCree drops down onto the floor with you, grasps you by the back of your neck, and says, “I made ya; raised ya; ya don’t get’teh just walk out on me.”

Using his new leverage he pulls you in and kisses you, and you pound on his bare, angry red chest. No reciprocation, just more tears, and wailing.

“Jus’ give us a chance, baby,” he demands, with simplicity and growl in his voice are ludicrous to you. The way he’s making it out to be so damn simple and is angry because you can’t seem to understand that. 

Then he goes for the waist of your leggings and you really start frantically trying to pry his hands away. Remembering how painful it was the first time, the fear and shock like nothing else you’ve ever felt. The force behind why you’re trying to sneak out of the motel room in the wee hours of the morning. The sun hasn’t even risen. You thought he was dead asleep, but McCree was ready for you to try something like this.  

“No, no, no,” you plead as he yanks the fabric down, so harshly you both fall back at the same time. “’M sorry, ‘M sorry! I’ll be good, I’ll stay–” 

McCree swiftly reached down, locks both of your ankles in one hand, and pins them back next to your head. Does you a small service by spitting on your still sore entrance, before freeing his cock from his boxers and roughly sticking you with it. The saliva doesn’t do a thing to stave off the burn of the stretch or the punch in the gut as he jams against your cervix. With his free hand, he clamps it over your mouth keeping your keening muffled.

At this point, as McCree is steadily raming into your unwilling cunt, using your body, fucking you like he’s never going to get a chance to again, all the fighting is only making this hurt more than it needs to. So you just close your eyes and resign to relax… no that wouldn’t be the right word for it. More like leave your own space of mind, go a little numb, and hope you won’t be back ‘til it’s all over.

But your traitorous body won’t be allowing it for long. When McCree’s groaning hit a particularly low octave it just sends sharps pangs through your midsection. And every thrust that hits your cervix glides past a sweet spot that pebbles your nipples and flowers warmth in your hips. The feeling frightens you, this hadn’t happened before. Opening your eyes to instinctually look at the person you’d usually look to when scared.  

McCree’s face is still just as intense as it was, maybe more lust filled than angry but you’re not quite sure if you know the difference. He removes his hand, lets your legs go to be hooked over his shoulder. Lays down, propped up on his elbows, his weight and bulk engulfing your pretzeled form. Cock reaching even deeper. Pistons into you, grasping your chin so you can’t turn away from him as he kisses you. Shoving his tongue into your mouth, biting your lips.

“You’re  _mine_ ,” he growls against your swollen mouth. Slamming his hips against your ass, grinding in as deep as he can go.

You’re not sure why you say it or meekly nod your head. But it’s past your lips before you even have time to think about it. Minds too clouded, too confused. The pressure in your hips and the heat in your body is too overwhelming. The statement wasn’t a question, he didn’t demand understanding or agreement.

“Yes, daddy…”

When you cum you can’t help but cling to him, whimper, and shake. Hands that were once palm flat on the floor, claw onto and hang onto the firm muscles of his back. McCree cums too, his length harder than ever. Grunting and chanting praises about how much of a good girl you are. Spilling white ribbons inside of you  _again,_  your belly churns with sick at the idea of what that could be planting there.  

Suddenly his face softens into something more recognizable, pulls out of you gently. Like he just released all of his aggression into your body and now he’s ready to be sweet again. McCree stands up tucking his length back into the boxers that keep him from being completely naked. Brings your bags back in, leaving for a brief amount of time, returning with a bucket of ice. Leaving the door wide open, though it might as well be shut, locked, and barred up to you.  

Closing the door McCree plops down. Reaches for you, bringing you into his lap, cradles you like a baby. Grabs a chunk of ice and gingerly glides it across the cheek he had rapped with his knuckles. Flinching at the sudden contrast between the natural heat of your skin and the chill.

“Ya gotta promise me your gonna try,” McCree says quietly. You nod, stating that you will, seeing as your out of any other options. He kisses your sweaty forehead, nuzzles his nose against your hairline, tells you he loves you, and you don’t have to say it back right now. “Just… don’t make your daddy have’teh treat his little girl like this again.”


	73. Hanzo x Sister!Reader (Lactation Kink)

Every suckle of Hanzo’s warm, wet mouth seems like a direct line through the core of your body into your clit. Not only the pleasure but the sheer  _amount_  of it that both you and your Anija would end up gathering from this is… unexpected.

Found on your bed -sulking- because Hanzo can’t ever let you be late to anything (particularly if it involves him) without investigation. Hanzo had what he called a simple solution, and when you had reluctantly unbuttoned your blouse, tugged your bra down, and Hanzo dutifully latched on to relieve some of the pressure that was causing his little sister to be so teary, it was, at first, merely something that needed to be in done in order for you to feel better.

They throbbed with a dull ache, painful to the point of tears. Swollen, heavy, and so tender to the touch. It was a rather embarrassing thing to have to admit, but if you’ve got to count on one brother to be mature, it’d be Hanzo. Even the expensive fabric of your bra made you wince as you pulled it away from your breasts. A few droplets of milk leaked from each nipple, rolling down your belly. Hanzo gathered the liquid with his thumb, tested the taste.

“Sweet,” he said with an approving hum. 

At first, he was stiff, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Leaning across your lap, one hand planted firmly on the mattress the other palm down against the wall just next to your head. It wasn’t long ‘til he just… melted into your lap. Fell right into a natural rhythm. His arm wrapped around your waist, lightly stroking your back, the other clutching the fabric of your shirt. 

Now you’re practically cradling him, feeling so feminine and close. You’ve never been able to run your fingers through his hair for so long, trace the lines of his well-defined muscles in his arm. At least not without being fussed at. Hanzo’s skin’s so soft, the muscle underneath strong and firm, it’s addicting to touch. Your stern, beautiful big brother’s never looked so relaxed in your presence, at least not when awake. Usually, in order to see his features soften  _this_ much, you’d have to stay awake long enough post coitus to witness it.

Relaxed and… turned on, the tent at the crotch his pants evidence. While your bodily heat seeps out into your panties. Your body’s so warm, filled with lustful fuzz. Hips rotating in small gyrations, trying to go after something to quell the pulsating pussy between them. Milk dribbling from your unoccupied breast with every rough shudder of your breath.

Perhaps the erection shouldn’t be surprising. It’s not like your tits haven’t been a sexual point of interest more times than you can count. Being groped, kissed, and bitten in the throws of passion, but they’ve never gotten this kind of attention before. And you’re just now realizing that that’s been an awful shame.

“Is it still good? Sweet?” You ask, momentarily concerned that he might not be enjoying himself, no matter how unwarranted the feeling might be.

Hanzo nods. Pauses, contemplating before latching onto your second nipple, erect, pebbled and eager to be suckled. Instant relief floods through you, just the presence of his comfortable lips, his spongy wet tongue is enough to pull a blissful sigh from your lips. He sucks strongly but does not swallow. Leaves your nipple with tight lips, presses them to your own and you open up. Allowing him to transfer the milk past your own lips, giving you a taste of yourself.  

“See?” He says on his way back down. 

_Oh, fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me right now._

_“_ Yeah.” 

You’d say your raging horny demands out loud, but your breast is still aching and sore with pressure, and you’re pretty certain -despite it driving you nuts- that you enjoy the boiling sensation, like a big pulsating rock sitting right on top of your mound, cradled inside the walls of your cunt. It’s torture that feels good.  

By the time he’s nearly drained your breast of every last drop, his hands have started to roam, and you can hardly sit still with all of the shivers running down your spine.

“Better?” Hanzo asks absentmindedly (not expecting an answer) as he leaves your breast to kiss between them. Feverishly moving his way up to your neck, already knowing that your feeling much, much better. Hands spreading your legs, tugging down your panties.

“Aren’t we being missed right now?” You ask, referring to the cordial get together that you both were expected to attend. Businessmen, clan members, even some of Japan’s “finest” politicians being hosted and catered to by the Shimada castle staff. 

Hanzo shrugs, sit back and tugs you forward so you’re lying on your back, and opened up; plenty of space for him to fit himself into.

“By now they are too fat and drunk to care.” Then he smiles, chuckling to himself. Palming his bulge, while your hips lift, begging for it. One of the most angelic, precious things you’ve ever seen (the smile that is.) “And so am I.”

 

 


	74. Sojiro x Daughter!reader

Sojiro has dabbled in his fair share of addictive hobbies, foods, drinks, and substances. Nothing had compared to how addicting as his very own flesh and blood is; his youngest. Addicted enough to have her flown from Hanamura to join him on his diplomatic journey through Japan. Travel necessary to keep up contacts. To secure bridges. Showing dedication to his business through action. Unnecessary, he’d even say reckless, to tow you along,  _simply_  because his body craves it.

Craves that pretty, tight space between your legs. The warmth of your eager hands, how your body yields willingly to his own. The support, and like-minded company that only papa’s little girl can provide… perhaps his reasoning was not so simple.

So dangerous as it may be, he had you put on a plane and delivered to him; the most precious cargo (there never fails to be at least two or three assassination attempts during these travels; there had already been one; uninspired and too easy to shut down in his opinion).

After all, the distracted, wondering mind of a leader such as he is a dead one.

Picking you up he had to get his hands on you in the car. Patted his lap, stating for you to take your place and just let him touch you. Giddily you sat in it, and cooed about how much you missed him.

-Such a wonderful surprise!  _So_  happy and relieved to get away from the castle and your feuding brothers-

“Papa, they are so bad,” you said. The way you laid back against his chest and sighed lead him to believe you had been mediating them yourself. Spread your legs on either side of his knees, hooked your feet under his calves, and let him spread you open with the splay of his legs. Turned out the both of you needed to work out some frustrations. 

“Were  _you_  a good girl?” Sojiro asked, as he was quick to distract. Ran a firm palm down over your neck. Continued in one motion down. Groped your breasts, tugged at your nipples through your shirt, and massaged your bare thighs, exposed by the short length of your skirt. Raked his fingers along the inside of the soft, sensitive flesh.

Just as he wanted you were too distracted to give a verbal answer. Too busy whimpering, humming and gyrating your hips. Nodded your head assuredly and craned your neck to give him wanton kisses on his beard and jawline. Touched his forearms, the way Sojiro touched your thighs. Fiddled with his watch, until he had enough of watching your chest rise and fall. Seeing how long he could keep the goosebumps present on your thighs, how stunning the red looked bloomed on your skin.

If the traffic remained stubborn and never let up, he wouldn’t have had hard feelings towards it. Usually, things that waste his time are the source of many harsh feelings. Thankfully he had you in what is one of his favorite positions.

The downward angle of your spread legs. The button-up blouse, that he’s fully aware you buy one size too small (so that your chest struggles to be contained). Was distracting enough.  

Flipping up your skirt gave way to a full, needy erection. Created a bulge that you were quick to take advantage of. The pressure against this lap become heavier. More insistent, erratic. As if you had been avoiding laying your whole weight upon him. Not helping relieve any of his addiction itches. Only proved to heighten them. Like giving an alcoholic a sugary cocktail. It’s delicious, may even be partially satisfying, but what they really need is the bottle.  

“Mmm, Papa, I missed you~”

Sojiro grabbed a hold of your chin and kissed you to return the sentiment. Then he slipped his hand into your underwear to give your circling hips something to work with. You whined as his fingers slipped inside of you. So satisfyingly slick, you must have been daydreaming on the flight over here. Demanded you fuck yourself on his fingers ‘til the car arrived at the hotel.

And you did. Good girl.

“How much time do we have?” You asked breathlessly as the car came to a stop. Body still jerking from the orgasm you had. Mindlessly fiddled with his watch as if you were trying to find the answer there in the old-fashioned, near archaic hands and rhythmic ticking.

“Plenty.” 

Sojiro’s next meeting isn’t until the late evening. Perfect. Circumstance gifts him enough time to work out his stress and practice his discipline by fucking his girl like he’s been gone for months. When in reality it’s only been a couple of weeks. The added benefit being he gets to use the natural sunlight to his advantage. Penthouse suite curtains thrown open. Broad, tall windows letting in the Sun’s rays, leaving no part of your naked body unilluminated.

As much as he loves the arch of your back. A beautiful, strained slope. Testing your flexibility, keeping your hair in his grasp, and spine curled. The bounce of your pillowy ass every time he slammed into you. On hands and knees on the luxurious Japanese style floor bed. Hands full of sheets, cunt clamping down on him so strong, he thought he may have no choice but to stay there. But before he couldn’t hold back the swell and tingle in his cock he pulled out and moved on.

That wasn’t the first position, and the next one won’t be the last. Sojiro has time to use wisely and an addiction to fuel. With the intention of leaving you blissed out, content, and safe with lethally skilled assassins watching from above, and his best guards at the door. As soon as he had you within the confines of his hotel room he could hardly contain himself, giving the bellboy quite the red, aghast face, that was quelled by a hefty tip in his palm.

Ready for the next Sojiro flips you over and tugs you into his lap. Knees up, legs spread wide. Pretty, pink pussy, red with use. Instinctively you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and interlocking your legs behind his back. Giving him a deep, moan reverberating kiss. But the closeness won’t due, not for right now.

“Lay back, koneko.”

Laying back wistfully, your breasts bounce, and your hips lift wanting to be filled again. Soft belly, elongated, and pretty. Carrying the presence of a goddess drinking greedily from The Fountain of Youth. Mere featherweight on your aura. And couldn’t be any more unashamed of it.

Slipping back into you is fluid, hot. One lift of your hips, cunt so slick it’s a smooth entry. And he’s rewarded with a happy, shuddering sigh. Grabbing ahold of your wrists he both thrusts into you and pulls you against his lap at the same time. Getting to watch your breasts bounce, again and again, the one thing he misses from the backend view of your body.

And then there’s your face. The way it contorts. The lewd, whorish way your mouth hangs open. The way your eyes roll back into your head with every rough patch of pleasure that makes its way through your core. Sojiro much enjoys watching the word ‘papa’ roll off of your lips sporadically.

He waits (just like every other time) ‘til he’s absolutely sure that the next thrust is going to unload himself inside of you and pulls out. Resting his swollen cock between your folds, leaking on your mound.

You go right for it with an open hand. Wanting to stoke, wanting to milk. But he snatches it up. Kisses your knuckles, tut-tutting because if he had let you stroke him surely he would have cum. Sprayed all over your belly and breasts, suddenly exhausted and in need of a bath.  

“No, no. Not yet,” he says, a little out of breath. Tosses your legs over to the side. “I still have a few angles I’d like to see you from.”


	75. Alpha!daddycree x omega!daughter

Damn the desert and its fickle weather. The cold, frigid nights and the hot, sweltering days. When he needs the wind it’s dead still, so stagnate McCree could swear the oxygen’s been taken right out of the atmosphere. When he doesn’t need the wind it’s blowing in full force; loud, disrupting comms. Making wearing a hat a real pain in the ass; blowing his fucking cigar out.

Today he can’t decide which would have been worse. It’s quiet, keeping your potent scent confined in your room. All three of your windows are wide open and not helping one bit. The world’s at a standstill today. Better, McCree’s gathering, than your scent being carried through every crevasse of the gorge. Better than him having to take measures to keep his Alphas from converging on his house like a pack of wild animals.

With every inhale his cock throbs, insistent. Mind swelling, fogging up with the thought of one thing and one thing only; more than it ever has in his experience with an Omega in heat. Fervor coiling in his belly. Growing ever thicker, warmer. His body giving him no choice but to feel what he was born to biologically feel. Even if the pheromones causing it are wafting from the body of his darling, shame-ridden little girl.

McCree’s not feeling shook up about it; it is what it is. And he’s always been ready to do, and be, whatever it is his baby girl needs him to be. Besides in this day in age, it ain’t that unheard of: an Omega claimed by the family; sometimes that’s just what’s best, and the biology of the sub-sexes allow for it to be viable.

He’s watching you sob and sob with a heavy heart (and cock); you’re trying to both cling to the towel keeping you modest so shy and sexually aggressive at the same time. Also clinging to his back, crumpling up and untucking the tail of his shirt. Pawing at the small of his back.

“Papa you smell so good,” you coo, teetering on a whine. Everything that’s coming out of your mouth is boarding on some sort of sob. 

He stands at the edge of the bed, petting your head like the whimpering puppy you are. Obedient; backing away from what you haven’t been given permission to have (not that he’s chided you). Apologizing profusely; hiding behind your hair every time you get an inch away from burying your face into his crotch.    

Looking up at him with shaky breath and glassy eyes you beg, “please… papa, please don’t auction me… I don’t wanna…” Crying so hard you can’t finish your own sentences, sniffling in between words. It’s a little heartbreaking for a daddy to watch, but it is cute, the way the tears make your cheeks and your neck so glowy and pink.

Cute… until he registers what you said, that is.

“Auction you?” McCree’s genuinely shocked and offended. It’d be a cold day in hell before he hands you over to the highest bidder. Just cause an Alpha’s got a lot of money don’t mean they’re going to treat their Omega like they do. “Now why would I fuckin’ do that?”  

“It’s a whole lot a money,” you reason, shrugging meekly. Cowering further down at the tone of his voice.

He huffs, flicks some of the water from your hair way, still wet from the bath you had locked yourself into, and McCree had to coax you out of. Talked sweet to you through the door ‘til you came out soaking wet, red-faced, eyes to the floor, and headed straight for the comfort of your bed. Leaving drops of sweet and savory omega heat on the floor, a trail any predator could easily follow.  

“I ain’t sellin’ you, silly girl.” He says in a softer tone. Cradles your dewy face and you lean into the touch of his prosthetic hand, grateful for the comfort. The anxiety over your first heat must have been really potent, mucking up your brain, in order for you to truly fear something as obscene as that. “Got plenty a suppressants for ya, hun. Enough for your whole damned life.” 

Shaking your head from side to side, you finally get up the courage (permission be damned) to nuzzle your cheek against his bulge. His cock jerks from within its confines; feels heavier and heavier with each needy rub. Doe eyes flitting up to his face as you test his boundaries by placing a hand on his belt buckle. He doesn’t stop you; probably should make you take a pause, but to hell with it. Whatever’s going to make his baby feel better.

When he doesn’t remove the hand you take it as permission to go full steam ahead. Fumbling, inexperienced, trying to get his cock free. Belt jingling, zipper sliding. Needy hormones giving you the courage to look directly at it as it pops out from between his zipper. Staring at it like it’s a glass of ice cold water after you’ve been lost in the heated desert. A shaky hand disappearing between the folds of your towel as you lick his shaft, graze your wet lips all over the head.

“Claim me, Papa.” You breathe out, hot on his cock. Slick squelches made by the hand between your legs trying to feed your hungry hole. Choking out with a sob, “Lord, I’m so empty.”

“Ya sure, baby?” The inflection of McCree’s voice says that he’s not necessarily concerned, but rather already know’s the answer. Seeing as he’s asking as your trying to fit your lips around the head of his dick. Fingers still working the walls of your heightened velvet. Moaning so beautifully it sounds like a musical hum. To his understanding, it would look as if you’ve already made up your mind.

Still.

“Can’t step back over this line once it’s crossed,” he urges.

McCree receives a nod and a gurgled “mmhmm.” Trying so hard just to be full, even if it means stuffing yourself in the hole that’s not going to do much to put a damper on the pulsating fire between your legs that won’t be satisfied until it receives the length, knot, and seed of an Alpha.

Halfway down his shaft and gagging violently, not giving a single care about your own discomfort. He isn’t making you do it, you just are. With no guidance, it’s just ignorance and blind desperation that has you determined to make yourself sick trying to take him all the way down your throat.   

The pleasure, the sound of it’s singing through his nerve endings, but if McCree keeps letting you go at it you’re sure to throw up, or he’s sure to knot in your mouth, so he gently pulls you off. Slober trailing off his dick to your swollen, wet lips. Panting for air with a gaped whore of a mouth.

He grabs ahold of your hair at the nape of your neck, a gentle but firm hold, making sure you look at him, cause this time he’s really asking. “Are you  _sure_?”

“It’s all I could think about it in the bath,” you say with a fervent nod of your head, “I just– didn’t know how to come out and ask… I’m sure, Papa.”

That being the first coherent thing you’ve said since he got you out of that damned bath, he takes it to heart. Pulls you up and holds you close to his body, kisses you for the first time, not as a Papa, but as an Alpha claiming his Omega. Breathing deeply through his nose, chest expanding with the last bits of your virgin scent. He’ll miss it, but it’ll be so much more satisfying having your blood constantly flowing with his distinct pheromone markers.

He pulls back when you’re out of breath and clawing his chest to sink his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Making your already close bond airtight. Clamping down with vigor and so suddenly that your shrill scream echo’s out the window and into the canyon.

Shortly after the shock of the pain, however, your body melts against his own, trembling with a deep moan of satisfaction. McCree takes your moment of bliss to discard the towel now barely clinging to your body. You don’t miss it once it’s gone. No whine of apprehension, no fighting him to keep it. Far too busy fumbling with the buttons of his shirt whining about how you need to feel him and need to feel him  _now._   

McCree pushes you back hard enough for you to splay out on your back on the bed. Watches you spread open, showing off that sopping, shiny breeding hole. Using both of your hands cupped over your mound to finger yourself, while he finishes devoiding himself of clothes that feel like sandpaper when his body is just about as boiling as yours is.

With your legs wide open your scent permeates his nose. He’s finally able to place it. Honeysuckle and some kind of spice… cinnamon, musk, and a fertile womb. Damn you’re both a mess. Your slick seeping into the sheets, creating a wet spot just underneath your ass. McCree’s cock leaking strings, jumping and twitching against his stomach, just begging to be stuck in something tight and wet.

“Ready for me, baby girl?” he asks.  

Nodding enthusiastically, you grin and laugh a bit manically… he understands that  _was_  a silly question. As he climbs onto the bed you’re quick to hold your legs back with digging grips under each of your knees. His strong, muscled arms take place of those hands, keeping your legs spread and back. With a few rotations of his hips, his weighty cock slips right inside of you with a gasp from both you and him. If there was a pinch or any pain what-so-ever you’re not showing it and not complaining.

This is about as close to heaven as a man like McCree is ever going to get. How it can be so easy, smooth like a knife through butter, sinking into your cunt, and tight like a vice at the same time baffles his sense clouded mind. No matter, it feels better than anything he’s ever stuck his cock in, and he’s not a man to philosophize in even the most serene of situations, let alone one like this.

You’re stunned into silence as he breeds you, moans caught in your chest as you struggle to keep up with breathing. He fucks you like a dog, a bonafide animal, tears of pleasure now streaming down your face. Groaning and growling with each rough slap of his hips against your ass. Until the orgasm takes over and your screaming, clinging onto his forearms, begging for more like your life depends on it. Nails creating little crimson crescents.  

Oh  _fuck_ , he’s so close to cumming. You’re so tight, trying to swallow him whole and keep him captive so you never have to feel empty again. It’s been a quite a long while since he’s fucked an Omega (normally their too much trouble for his kind of life), sticking to the normal whores and sluts that make their way through his gorge. Almost forgot what it feels like to be buried in a desperate cunt. One that  _needs_ him to be satisfied. One that’s between the legs of his baby, the only girl he’d ever say without a doubt he’d do  _anything_  for.

When he cums, and his knot swells, spurting thick, rich ribbons of healthy Alpha seed deep, deep inside of you, and you cum another time (he’d lost track of how many times you clamped down around him and fluttered). An orgasm that makes your whole body tremble before it goes completely still.

The two of you lay there panting, locked together. Dopamine coursing through your veins, feeling lethargic and lazy. Small after pangs and twitches in your abdomen against his own stomach make him feel smug, accomplished.

“Angel?” He asks for your attention and you hum in response. “Still feelin’ good ‘bout this?” Another hum, and a kiss on his shoulder; darling. 

McCree licks the bite on your skin, cleaning off the dried blood. Sucks around it, working on leaving another mark. He feels your muscles go slack, practically becoming one with the bed, weakly hanging onto his sweaty body. Every once in a while your tongue peaks out of your mouth, savoring the taste of Alpha and salt on whatever skin is closest to your mouth.  

McCree’s unaware of when it happened; when the swelling of his knot went down and he started fucking you again. Both of you slipping between fevered and loud, to quiet, breathy, and lazy. Or when six days had gone by, rarely leaving the bed, your womb full of him. High as a kite on his new little Omega.


	76. Scion!Hanzo x Fem!Reader (spanking)

“What… have I told you about mouthing off?” Hanzo standing at your back, drinking in your precarious position, demands an answer of you. Voice low, a growl, and hot liquor laced breath in your ear as he yanks your hair back with a tight wrap of it around his fist. Your back arches, hands desperately clinging to the desk for balance.   

“Not to do it?” you answer. A bratty grin spread on your face, heavy breathing, and chest straining against the fabric of your dress shirt. With your skirt shoved up around your waist and your panties stretched across the middle expanse of your thighs, Hanzo is easily able to bring down a swift open palm onto your right bared ass cheek. 

“That just earned you five more.” 

You groan at the thought. You’ve already been informed that it’ll be five spanks for every eye roll, five for every sarcastic comment, and five for every time you distracted him with unnecessary finger brushes across his crotch, all the times you fiddled endlessly with the watch on his wrist while Hanzo was trying to be professional. Whispering “daddy” in his ear was the last straw, an inappropriate bulge formed at the zipper of his pants in front of important company, and abruptly you were being dragged off to be taught a lesson.

How can you be expected to help yourself? No mortal man should be allowed to look that good in a suit, carrying all the power like it was tailored to fit him.

Every spank is swift and stings just a little bit more than the last. Heels feeling like shaky, tall stilts. Legs becoming dangerously weak, your thighs squeezing together. With your pussy hovering just over the corner of the desk, the wood presses insistently against your swollen, heartbeat of a clit. Hips roll and grind with the friction every gloved swat against your ass provides you. The sensation making your legs even weaker, body slumping. 

“Keep your posture,” he demands. Hanzo yanks on your hair again and suddenly your legs find new strength to keep from buckling.

Your skin is aflame, a blanket of pins and needles. Radiating heat stronger than the bright red color of the abused skin on your ass. Every satisfying clap after clap, after clap, makes your torso tremble and thighs quake. Every lick of fire giving the butterflies in your stomach something to flutter about. Your wails sound agonized but the slick seeping out of your pussy begs to differ.

“O-ooh~ please, please… oh my god… Hanzo…” 

Hanzo chuckles, sadistically amused. “What are you begging for?” 

You shake your head erratically, truthfully you have no idea. You’re just begging. Begging for more? Begging for him to have mercy? Begging for whatever he has in store for you next. 

The next slap of strong leather clad palm is the last, and Hanzo makes it count. Takes a handful of your plush, fatty flesh in a bruising grasp before he slips two gloved fingers between your cheeks and right into your wet cunt. The intrusion raking against your molten hot, hypersensitive walls makes you moan and arch your back like a whore on camera.  

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks. His fingers driving into your tight, hungry little hole. Knuckle deep and unrelenting. The metal of Hanzo’s watch pressed against the underside of your rear is ice cold against the scorching heat from your skin. The timepiece jingling as he fucks you with two long, thick fingers.  

You manage to nod your head, and he gives you another yank on your hair. “So like a little  _brat_ ,” Hanzo hisses into your ear. “Acting out to get what you want.”

You couldn’t agree more.

Your eyes roll back, stomach muscles pull taught. Pussy squeezing down, vice-like around his digits. Hanzo shoves a third one inside, stretching you, filling you and digging even deeper. Settling the pads of his fingers on a bundle of nerves that feels so good to be focused on it blurs your vision and your mouth hangs lewdly open. Knees threatening to buckle again as you’re carried away by the persistent pressure the desk inflicts on your engorged, pulsating clit. The harsh hand in your hair, and the man who’s responsible for it all, you feel high and just about to careen right over the edge. 

When you do start to cum Hanzo lets your hair go and you fall forward onto the desk moaning loudly, grinding your hips, pushing back on his fingers trying to make your high last for as long as possible. But then the high doesn’t stop and Hanzo keeps working your walls, muscles overstimulated, and too sensitive. 

“Hanzo! Please… please…” you beg. Trying to crawl across the desk to get away from him and find some relief. 

This time he understands what you’re begging for but has one condition before you’re granted what you want. “Will you behave?” 

“Oooh… yes! Yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good…” 

With that promise, Hanzo withdraws from your pussy. Effortlessly flips you over and pulls you up against his chest. You cling to his vest while he delicately pulls your panties back up, straightens out your skirt, and carefully makes your hair look presentable again. When he’s done he kisses you, it’s supposed to be brief but you lean into it blissfully humming, breathing in deeply through your nose taking in his warm, spicy scent. Hanzo growls so lowly it rumbles in his well-clothed chest, a warning. If you don’t stop he might have to ruin you all over again. 


	77. DaddyScion!Hanzo x Daughter!reader

The fact that you had to be called into your papa’s bedroom was a surprise in itself. Usually, you would already be there. But today present company had kept you. You without a doubt are far more sociable than your Papa, were gifted with better acting skills. Perhaps the skill to conjure up a fake smile and believable false interest came from your Uncle, maybe your Grandpapa. But certainly  _not_ your father.

Hanzo’s blatant disinterest in deals, plans, and topics that bore him would on paper seem to be detrimental to a leader, but for him, it works. The scalding, flagrant disinterest cuts right through the bullshit and gets right down to brass tacks, which often cuts out months of what would usually be cordial dancing around what rival clans, businessmen, and politicians  _really_  want out of there relationship with the Shimada-Gumi.  

Though when it gets to the end of the day the way it had today, and your Papa is leaning on his very last bit of patience, it’s best to leave you to the last of the pleasantries, lest he ended up saying something that would start somewhat of an underground war.

It was no surprise that your Papa would only allow them so much time with his darling Hime. Was only a matter of time before the guard came in to disrupt the festivities, escort the people out and off of Shimada land, with a message for you stating that your father would like you to come to his bedroom. A welcome demand, seeming more like a rescue to you.

Your heels click-clack across the hardwood floors of the castle. As you pass through guards and staff alike regard you with small respectful bows and eyes that are trained to the floor. The guard just down the hall from Hanzo’s room follows you to the door, slides it open for you, and closes it behind you as you step inside. You take notice of the maid cleaning his room. She, in turn, takes notice of you, promptly picking up her pace. Cleaning at a near frantic rate.

Hanzo walks in from his balcony, no doubt was taking time to oversee his kingdom before turning in for the night. The state of your father is shocking; he’s still fully dressed to the nines. Right from his royal blue tie right down to his leather dress shoes. You had expected to find him in his boxer briefs, or even naked. Hanzo often doesn’t care to wear clothes to bed and wear his nudity proudly.

“Papa?” you say as both a greeting and a question. Approaching him you grab onto his tie, using it as you usually would so you can lift yourself and kiss him. Hanzo’s lips are soft, but not yielding. Curious, you pull away with a small ember in your belly, left wanting, and with another question in your eyes.

Hanzo meets your question with equally an answer as it is a demand. “Undress me.”  

Your tummy summersaults with excitement. Thought the words that came out of your mouth are a little more poised and calm. “Okay, Papa.”

Eager you swiftly grab a hold of the knot of his tie and move it from side to side, loosening it from the base of his throat. Hanzo grabs your wrist, trapping you, and halting your eager pace.

“Take your time,” he instructs and releases your wrist. “Do it the proper way.” 

Understanding you nod. This time gently loosening the tie knot. Feather-like motions as you pull the long end out, throw it back through and are now easily able to undo the tie with your fingers. Unbuttoning the first button on his shirt proves to be more difficult than it would usually be. If you’d been tearing it from the small slit, eyes closed, and senses taken up by the strong, overwhelming passion your papa usually throws upon you it would have been much easier than slow and steady.  

The intensity with which Hanzo watches you warms your core to a near boiling point. Every little motion you make as you pull the tie out from under his collar is noted and thusly approved of. Small glances at how your hands shake a little. A look at your chest and how you’re consciously breathing through your nose and out through your mouth. It’s a little alarming just how impatient you really are. How strong the urge is to just tear, tug, and pull roughly at his clothes to get at the body underneath.  

Suddenly the maid’s timid voice cuts through the tension. “Sir? I’m done with my tasks, may I leave?” she asks in a desperate tone.

“No,” he says. And you don’t need to see the discomfort or disappointment on her face. You can sense the churn in her stomach, hear her sigh. “I need you to take my laundry first.” 

Hanzo gestures towards the maid with one nod of his head and you understand that you should give her each piece of clothing that you remove from him. You turn around and the maid obediently holds out her arms, palms up, and eyes to the ground. Allowing you to drape the tie over them. Next comes the vest (after several more moments of fumbling) neatly folded to join the tie.

You walk back to your papa and get to work on the rest of the buttons on his dress shirt after meticulously untucking it. Your gaze flitting from his face back to the shirt, down to the bulge forming at the crotch of his pants. Back up to the skin, pecs, and tattoo that’s teasing your sight with every button that comes undone.

“Papa you’re so handsome,” you say breathlessly. Not even looking at his face. Your attention never made it that far. Just the defined lines between muscles, the creamy smoothness of his skin. It looks delicious, an urge to lick welling up in your belly. 

Hanzo merely hums a pleased sound in response. Reaches up to brush a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers ghosting over your chin as he lets his arm drop back down to his waist. 

When the final button is finally free, cautiously, braving looking your papa in the eyes you graze the beds of your nails over his stomach. Starting at the waist of his pants, up and over his abs, ending at his collar where you push the fabric back over his shoulders. Draped back caught in the space between his forearm and bicep until you walk around and remove it entirely. 

Once Hanzo’s torso is bare, powerful shoulders and glorious tattoed arm on display, and the shirt is properly folded you give it to the maid who has all but become a living statue at this conjuncture.

Now you simply can’t help yourself. You have to kiss his chest as you make your way down to your knees. Licking and humming like you’re tasting the sweetest treat. Except this one isn’t so sweet, it’s savory and hot. Salted skin and taut muscle. 

On your knees, you pull his gloves loose finger by finger and set them off to the side. Undo his belt and leave it be. Unzip his zipper, slowly. Then pause getting a better idea. Lean forward and use your teeth to pull it down centimeter by centimeter. Letting the folds fall away from each other and hang as you go for his shoes. Not looking at them as they’re unlaced. You stare up at your papa, inching your face ever closer to his tempting bulge.

You whine and wiggle your ass as the mental image of his cock bobbing in your face comes to mind. Wet, strong, and in need of your lips wrapped around the shaft. The thought turning you on so much it hurts. You lick your lips and bite your lip. Already wet panties becoming even wetter. Forgoing his shoes for  _just_ a moment you reach for his crotch (you’re more than capable of multitasking). But Hanzo snatches up your wrist again and tuts disapprovingly. 

“You’re not finished yet,” he says in a tone that states that it should be obvious. Your hand flies back down to his shoes once it’s free, and Hanzo holds up one finger. “Remember, do  _not_ rush.”  

“I remember, papa,” you say in a lamentable way.   

Now you’re as focused as you can possibly be. Removing his shoes, socks, and sliding his pants down his legs after you’ve slipped the belt from its loops. All of the garments delicately laid to the side in an orderly fashion. There’s only one thing between him and nudity now. Reaching for the hem of his boxers your raise your eyebrows as a question.  _Am I allowed?_ And Hanzo nods, granting permission. 

That’s all you need to start peeling the underwear off of his hips. Watching with bated breath as his cock springs free and your mental image is brought into reality. Adding the neatly folded boxer briefs on top of the pile, you gingerly take it in your arms and stand up on weak legs. They feel light as air, full of fuzz. Void of anything. All of the blood from your body concentrated in your clit and wet pussy. 

Before you have a chance to turn around, Hanzo comes up behind you and yanks your body back against his by your hips. Kisses your neck and whispers in your ear, “Very good girl, Hime.” Continues to kiss and holds you flush even as you’re starting to go weak in the knees. Then Papa slips a hand under your skirt, cups your cunt, and presses his fingers against your aching hole. 

Abruptly Hanzo spins you around and kisses you. Lips still soft, his tongue malleable as it slips between your lips into your mouth, massaging your own. 

“Sir? May, may I be dismissed now?” the maid asks, desperate.  

Hanzo ignores the maid’s question and her will gives way into a whine. Instead of answering her Papa leaves your lips and drops down to his knees. Hooks two hands into the waist of your underwear and roughly tugs them down your legs. After you’ve stepped out of them he holds them up the maid saying, “Yes, but take these as well- they’re soaked.” 

 

 


	78. Zenyatta x Fem!Reader (Stuffing)

* * *

At the beginning of this session there was no way you thought you’d be able to take it. But with the guided sexual mediation your Master carefully, calmly, and confidently has been working you through, you’re warmed to the core, wet, and pliant deep down. Zenyatta had you tell him your most shameful fantasies (at least the fantasies that  _you_  found to be shameful. Zenyatta doesn’t believe any are). He insisted letting them out would be good for the libido. Would further enhance your future sessions with him. 

So; with your taught body, legs spread wide open on either side of his crossed knees, and sitting back in his lap, naked. Puffy cunt and equally puffy nipples scorched hot even within the cool temperature of the room, oversensitive from your Master’s ministrations. Zenyatta’s harmony orbs danced in a calm circle around you. While one torturous orb rolled down between your breasts. Lightly, it vibrated. And continued down your body ‘til it settled on your mound just above your clit while you bared every little, depraved fantasy you’ve ever had.

The orb’s vibrations picked up a steady pace with each new confession. Every little bit of cooperation was rewarded. Zenyatta would hum and praise, “Very good, my student” for each one you managed to get out. A feat in regards to the red-hot shame on your face. The irrational fear that something bad would happen for having said them. Zen rolled the orb with its feather-like vibrations over your tits as recompense. Every once in a while opting to use his hands to squeeze, massage and make you squirm in his lap. 

A certain confession even came with a promise: “Hmm. I have a student with a synchronizing desire. If it is quite alright with you, I would like to set up a duel session with you and them.”   

All you could to do was whine and nod fervently. The orb slipped, your back arched at the abrupt direct vibrations pressed against your swollen clit. 

“Oh! My apologies,” Zenyatta said, the orb quickly rolled back up. You breathed heavily in through your nose, holding your breath. Trying to bait back the swell of pressure in your hips that threatened an orgasm. You were politely but firmly told not to cum unless given expressed permission. With the added instruction not to beg. Zenyatta would know when’s the best time to cum. “And please, I would much prefer a verbal answer.” 

Letting out your held breath you said, “I would like that, Master.”  

“Splendid.” The harmony orb rolled inch by inch back up your belly, angled to roll over your tits. Goosebumps that were just starting to dissipate coming back in full force. Littered on your arms, raised hairs on your neck. “Under my guidance, I believe you will synergize beautifully.” 

Now that you had fully satisfied your Master’s requirements (and what you could swear was a genuine, gross interest and curiosity) the orb rolled back down. But  _further_  down. The vibrations nearly came to a full halt as it glided over your nub. Settled. Pressed gently, but firmly against your entrance. 

Panic welled up in your chest. The sphere wasn’t grand in length but it was girthy. Wide, heavy, and smooth. Even where the grooves and patterns were. But even so, it seemed to be  _impossibly_  wide. And yet it still pressed, and you started to gradually open up. 

Ever so slowly you were stretched. And stretched. And  _stretched_. And your walls continued to yield to it. A deep guttural moan pulling from your belly. Wanton mouth dropped open subtly as the immense about of pressure grew against your naturally slickened hole. Eyes shut tight, chin to chest. Even when the orb pressed against the bones of your pelvis and you felt, surely, that must be your limit; it kept going. Save for the slight bit of burn, that only proved to heighten your pleasure, there was nearly no pain at all. 

A pitiful whimper caused your Master slight concern. “Breath,” Zenyatta calmly instructed. Traced fingers over your abdomen to distract, and bring attention back to him. “You are doing wonderfully,” he praised with a hint of excitement in his melodic, reverberating voice. 

After passing its roundest circumference the orb popped inside of your body alarmingly fast, you gasped and held onto your Master’s knees. Clutched the fabric of his pants as your hips lifted. Feeling heavier. Relishing in the weight, the tingly warmth, and fullness like you’ve never felt it before. The orb relaxed you from the inside out. The orb’s influence gently coursed through your veins as it traveled further up inside of you. Feeling so detached from your limbs that your hands let go of their vice grip, and your ankles slacked, toes uncurled. 

The vibrations picked up again, and your body jolted but only for a moment before it went back into its lax state. Zenyatta asked, “how do you feel?” 

“So full, so hot… I can feel it all over,” you explained sounding high, and not quite like yourself, your own tone of voice seemed foreign. 

“Are you ready for another one?” He asked, voice thrumming through his body. Sending tingles through your ear canals.

“Yes, Master,” you mumble. Body involuntarily shivering at the thought. Just one had you feeling full, and was  _still_  reaching deeper. 

“Good; if you would; keep your eyes open this time? I would like for you to see what a marvel your body is.” So talented: the way Zenyatta can make a command sound like a choice and a question. 

They had been closed for so long that as you pried your eyes open the soft light of Zenyatta’s orbs still circling you stung to look at. Another orb floated over to you, tugged on an invisible puppet string. Came to rest at the corner of your jaw. Rubbed, oddly affectionately, before it rolled down your neck. He was back to teasing. Causing your heartbeat vacate your chest. Left and made a new home in your clit. The little bundle of nerves felt just about as big as a heart, testing your will. Your molten pink insides clenching sporadically, nervous, because your body felt completely out of your control. 

With your downward eyes watching as the orb made it’s journey down to your ruddy cunt, you could see the protrusion in your belly. Sweat glistened skin rounded more than it usually was, indicating just how far the orb had reached. The second orb slid between your folds. Instead of pressing, it grinded. Twisted from side to side as you were stretched open to the max once again. 

“Oooh… ooh my god,” you whined as the orb invaded your tight space more fluidly that time. Your cunt stuffed full and wetter than you’ve ever felt it. But Zenyatta had more for you. And you’d only be cumming when your Master was satisfied with both your will and your endurance.


	79. Dark/Yandere!Hanzo x Sister!Reader (Noncon, Physical Abuse)

After a long, in-depth meeting about the future of the empire now that’s it’s dead, unsightly weight had been successfully cut from its haunches, the elders instructed Hanzo to investigated and figure out why exactly, and for what better be a good reason, you had decided not to join to solidify your place in the new era of the Shimada reign.

Finding you, with a backpack open on the bed; refusing to so as much acknowledge him as he entered your room, was the very last thing Hanzo was looking to find. He would have rather you had been sickly and bedridden. Held at knifepoint by assassins, kidnapped, rather than have you willfully defying both his and the elders’ orders. 

“Where are you going?” Hanzo demanded of his sister; of you. His sister who looked more tired than he’s ever seen her. Heavy bags under your eyes and a deep frown that seemed to be your permanent state of face in those days. 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. Stuffed more clothes inside of your bag, and shrugged your shoulders, a quiver in your chin that also is commonplace. “Just- I don’t know… but I’m not staying here.” 

“Yes. You. Are.” Hanzo took a threatening step into the room. The pressure in his chest was overwhelming and his heart was beating so hard against his ribs he could hardly hear over the blood as it coursed through his ears. 

You couldn’t  _leave_. He couldn’t allow you to just walk out the door and forsake your family name. Hanzo would not have his own sister embarrassing him by being so blatantly, freely defiant. Leaving when the empire’s in need of the very last two Shimadas it has. 

“Yes. I.  _Am_.” The look you gave him was full of nothing but daggers, a sharp hiss in your voice. That jaw gradually losing its ability to remain still as tears started to roll down your cheeks. Standing your ground you held your head high and challenged him. “What you’re gonna do? Huh?!  _Murder_ me?” you spat. 

Anger like a white-hot sword sliced from his head to his toes. A painful wash of it carried by your tidal wave of words. That you would say something so harsh, it twisted the guts in his belly and made him feel  _weak._ Hanzo is the leader now and you of all people should have been mindful, cooperative enough to respect that and  _understand_. “You’re not leaving!” he growled the statement loudly. His voice boomed around the room, echoed out into the garden. 

As you zipped up your bag you shook your head from side to side, tight-lipped, and looking bitter. Angrier than he’d ever seen his baby sister look. Nearly broke the bag when it refused to work with you. When you finally got it to close you started to cry. Shaking, and semi-delirious you really gave him a piece of your mind. 

“There was a time when I would have done anythingfor you guys.  _Anything_. As long as it was the family against the world.” Pausing you looked around the room as if trying to find ghosts of what used to be. “There was nothing… any of us could have done to prevent what happened to Papa– but Genji?” Your voice cracked, bottom lip protruded out with a quiver. 

“I did what was necessary,” he said low. Hands clenched into fists. Jaw a tight, sharp line. “He was a liability. A fool. He betrayed us!” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Then you picked up your bag and threw it over your shoulder. Looked out your open balcony mournfully. The night was far too cool and serene, a light wind that brought in pleasant smells of cherry blossoms, for the heavy aura that was settled in your room. “Papa never would have allowed this to happen…” 

“That is enough. Father is dead _,_ _I_ am the leader now, and you need to _grow up!_ You will show me the same respect and obedience you gave father.” 

Slowly you turned back toward him. A scowl on your face, your nose turned up. Took deliberate, planted steps towards him as you sized him up. “Just because you put on a nice suite–” your eyes fell, heavily scrutinizing his wrist– “ _dare_  to wear his watch… doesn’t make you Papa; it  _never_  will.”

“I will live up to his legacy and you will be here to witness it.” 

“Maybe,” you said shaking your head in selective agreement. “Maybe I will witness it. But it won’t be at your side.” Clearly, you thought the conversation was over and that you had won. Made a move to walk around him and out the door. “Good luck, Brother,” you said sincerely, in a whisper.

His arm like a coiled snake at his side struck and grabbed a hold of your arm. The leather of his glove groaned as his fingers dug into your arm. Maybe… if Hanzo tried to level with you. Was… sincere, it would have made a difference; he should have known better. “You are all I have left,” he pleaded. Quiet baritones. Words and emotions bared that were too weak for boisterous tones. 

“And who’s fault is that?” Looking down at the hand entrapping you, you tugged once and demanded, “Let go of my arm, Hanzo.”    

All Hanzo could think to do in that moment was grab you by both of your arms and kiss you. Ripped the backpack from your back, tearing straps, and shoved you against the wall of your door. Harsh. Teeth mashed against teeth. Tounge pressed against unwilling lips. It hurt both him and you. You squirmed, thrashed your head from side to side, and cursed at him. Exclamations muffled from behind hard pressed lips. Every little protest sent a jolt of jarring electricity through his body. He hated the feeling. You were supposed to yield to him.

When you managed to finally get your arm between his and your bodies you pounded on his chest. Tried to push and rip yourself away from his bruising grasp on your arms. Until finally in a last-ditch effort, you bit his lip hard enough for you both to taste copper.

Hanzo let you go then, but not for long. Just long enough for you to whisper through clenched teeth, “We are  _not_ that close anymore.”

Hanzo couldn’t hold it back any longer. The anger. The shame you were making him face came out in the form of a swift backhand across your face. You fell to the ground with a high pitched yelp. And before you could try to get back up Hanzo planted a foot against your face. Kept you beneath him, where you belonged.  

“Eye for an eye,” he reasoned when you looked up at him, aghast. Hanzo whipped the blood away from his swollen bottom lip and showed it to you to further his point. 

“Just– let me go,” you pleaded. “You don’t need me here.” 

“What are you going to accomplish out in the real world? Outside of this luxury you have had your whole life, K _oneko_.” You winced at the affectionate name your Papa used to call you. That moment is the first time Hanzo had ever uddered that word to you. Hanzo presses his foot harder onto your face. Leaned slight more amounts of weight for every wiggle of your protesting body. “All you’ve ever learned to be is a walking  _cunt_  for this family. Remember your place.”

Stunned silent (finally) you started to cry harder. Ass wiggled more desperately as he started to undo his belt. Took his time slipping the leather out from under the cool metal that housed it. The harder you tried to resist the more weight he pressed against your face. Until you were whimpering in pain and trying to remove his foot with uncomfortably angled arms. Nothing allowing you any leeway with Hanzo outweighing you by a mile. 

With his belt loose, he roughly unzipped his pants and pulled out his raging hard cock. Hanzo never thought of himself as a sadist. Perhaps it wasn’t the cries or pleas to relieve the pressure on your jaw, but the fact that he had full say in whether or not you would be granted that relief; and the harsh, chest heaving pumping adrenaline that had him gripping a hot, blood-rich cock in his fist.

Only when Hanzo was ready to straddle your thighs did he take his foot from your face. As he knelt down, he shoved the small of your back roughly. Your hips met the ground with a thud and grunt from your mouth. Now that you were prone, the fight just started to dissipate from your body he was easily able to tug your leggings and underwear down enough to expose your ass and the pretty pussy he was used to having free reign of. Only now it belonged to him and only him. No more sharing, no more swallowing down harsh feelings or jealousy over what he used to felt you should only be spreading open for him.  

Just when Hanzo thought he’d get the obedience he came here seeking, you started to sob attention drawlingly loud. That wouldn’t do so Hanzo reached forward and cupped a strong hand over your mouth and demanded, “Be  _quiet!_ ” And since you were not to be trusted he kept his hand there, craned your neck back and kept you as quiet as he could. Took his cock in his free hand, rubbed the fat ruddy head against your folds, glistened them with pre-cum before losing his patience, in no mood for teasing Hanzo roughly speared your hole. Stretched you open quickly enough for it to burn. You took in a sharp breath in response to the intrusion, hands clenched into fists. 

As Hanzo slowly started to rock into you. Deep in your heat. Hips flush with your ass. His cock disappeared entirely from sight. Tucked snugly in your tight cunt and shrouded by the folds of his open pants. Angrily he fucked you, Hanzo found himself growling, working up to a brutalizing pace. His pointer and thumb gradually came together from across your cheeks. Until he not only had your mouth securely covered but also had your nose pinched shut, cutting off your air supply. Immediate panic made your back go rigid, and all of your fight come back in full force.  

“You will understand this,” Hanzo snarled. Leaned forward to make sure you heard every word he said by stating his truth right into your ear. “I  _will_  kill you before I let you leave me. And I will hurt you to ensure you don’t make a fool of yourself in the elders’ eyes.” 

To make sure his point dug deep, he held ‘til the noncoherent begging for air and pointless fighting came to a near stop. Only when he was sure you were about to pass out did he release you. Uncovered your nose and mouth. 

You gasped raspily for breath. Sobbed pitifully, but quietly. So Hanzo used your shoulders for leverage. Both hands holding you down as he slammed into you. Fast-paced, hitting you deep and roughly. His endurance kept him going at it, using you raw. Until you were near silent and the only sounds that permeated the room were his grunts, the occasional moan from you, and the sick sounds of your big brother fucking you into submission. 

Usually when Hanzo’s cock start to swell, when it pulsed inside of your body he’d pull out and spill his seed on whatever large patch of skin was the most convenient. But this time he only thrusted in and settled deep, spurted scolding hot ribbons of cum. Stayed there ‘til the blood began to retreat, and his length started to soften. Using your back he shoved himself back. Sat back on his thighs while he put his wet, cream covered cock back in his pants and watched as your cunt seeped lines of milky white. 

As Hanzo stood up he said, “I will call another meeting to order tomorrow. So you may have another chance to show the elders your loyalty to me.” Hanzo tugged on his vest, smoothed out the wrinkles that formed on his pants. Ran his hands through his tousled hair. “I expect you to be there. Be on time. Or there will be consequences. Do you understand me, Aneki?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” you said with volition and hateful inflection. Now that Hanzo’s head was starting to uncloud, the red-hot emotion giving away to a tinge of guilt in his belly, he crouched down intent to help you get back up. But as he reached out to gently grasp ahold of your arm that time you swatted him away. “Just leave!” You shouted. Eyes bulged a moment later with fear before adding, “Please _!"_

“As you wish,” he said, deadpan. He stood back up, slid your door open and said, “I will retrieve you in the morning.” He left you as you demanded, but not without ordering guards to stand at your door, a couple below your balcony.


	80. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader (Somno, Non violent, Noncon)

McCree being a homegrown cowboy, living in the desert is used to scorching heat and cold, cold nights. Never knew just what cold could actually be. Every time a mission takes him to cold places and then when he  _leaves_  those cold places he’s always more than eager and happy to forget just what frigid bone-shaking cold feels like.

When McCree thinks about it, maybe that’s to his detriment. If he got used to the cold that makes his teeth chatter and collects ice in his beard then maybe he wouldn’t loathe it as much as he does. Or be perpetually shocked when he lands in a place that has snow on the ground for most of its winter months.

Well, shit. At least the accommodations are nice. Overwatch at the moment isn’t rich, on a budget ‘til funding comes in hot. But nobody wants to stay in this godforsaken hellscape of white and slippery ice so the cottage was able to be rented cheaply. Trudging through the snow, ice crunching under every heavy step. Struggling, cussing at the stuff because he isn’t used to wearing bulky amounts of clothes. McCree’s motivated to keep from freezing in place with the promise of a warm fireplace and his baby girl who’s here working the uncover job (you’re a much more talented actress than he is).

As he’s coming through the door McCree stomps out his snow boots. Already complaining to you about the weather. “Damn, sugar, it’s cold as balls out there you lose a few toes today?” He’s met with silence, talking to himself. What he gets for not bothering to check to see if the couch is occupied by you or not.

It’s not, cause you’re on the floor. Laying on the bearskin rug (the cottage is full of stuff like that. Various animal heads, antlers, mostly every piece of furniture made of wood; your stereotypical cottage in the woods). Laying under several blankets, looks like you dragged nearly all the pillows from the bed to the floor. A mug and an open bottle of whiskey sitting on the brick ledge in front of the fireplace.

Ain’t that perfect.

After he’s stripped down to a t-shirt, boxers, and socks he sits down at your back, you facing the fireplace laying on your side. Reaches over, picks up the mug, and inspecting its contents. Looks like it was hot chocolate, but the smell of it suggests that it was more hair of the dog than a comforting sugary treat.

“It was that kinda day huh, darlin?” McCree puts down the mug, closes the neck of the bottle in his fist and brings it to his lips. Downs a few swigs. Just enough to feel the burn down his throat, a little fog in his head, and the warmth in his belly before placing it back down. He groans as he flips up the blankets and gets underneath the covers with you. You sure did have the right idea. 

Jesse cuddles up real close to you, smelling hair, cupping the belly that’s been exposed from the rise of your t-shirt in your sleep. Leaning on an elbow he finds it hard to just let his head hit the pillow. You’re angelic when your sleeping. Soft face even softer, blissful. Lost in what he’s hoping is a good dream, eyes flit back and forth from behind lightly closed lids. Cheeks rosy and glowing. Skin radiating heat underneath the mountain of blankets.

He’s just… a little lost in looking at you. Not sure why he gets the urge to dip down and bury his face into your neck. Maybe cause it’s cozy there, his face encased between your chin and shoulder. And cause your skin tastes good as he flicks his tongue against the nape of your neck. You’re soft, warm, and he just loves you so much.  

“Baby?” he whispers into your ear, testing. “Sweetheart?” Nothing. No stirring, no groaning. No shifting to try and get his scratchy, tickly beard away from the sensitive skin on your neck. Carefully McCree rolls you over onto your back, head lolling over to the side like he just threw a doll down onto the floor. A bulge begins to form in his boxers, thick head slowly inching up the inside of his thigh as it begins to rise. 

McCree throws a leg over your body, straddles your hips. Carefully pinches the bottom of your shirt between two fingers. Pulls it up and up. Gradual; almost like somethings going to jump out and bite him if he moves too fast. Until he’s finally got the fabric nicely scrunched up above your tits. The swell of your pretty breasts rising and falling gracefully with each deep intake of breath. Cock at full attention, slightly peaking out of the hem of his underwear.

Before he places two eager palms over your tits he pulls the erection out from between the slit. Lets it stand tall, twitching and poking into his stomach as he gropes. Lightly pinches one perky, little nipple while he ghosts his tongue over the other. Looks up through his lashes at your face while he latches on and suckles like he’s trying to get milk. Lavishes your nipples ‘til their a little on the red and raw side.

McCree moves back up to kiss your slack lips. Tasting traces of chocolate and the cinnamon from the whiskey. Alcohol wafting into his nostrils, you must have really drunk your weight’s worth. “Mmm, baby girl,” he mumbles. “I sure hope daddy tells you your beautiful often enough. Cause ya are.”

He traces his fingers down your chest, over your tummy, and shoves them a little too roughly for safety’s concern into your pajama pants. Rubs your pussy through the fabric of your underwear, finding that it is wet. McCree nods as if he was expecting as much. Growls as he presses fingers into the moist fabric, nice and firm against your entrance. Whispers to you while he places a kiss on your cheekbone, “you like when your daddy touches you nice and sweet don’t cha?”

For the first time since he started you moan. So right on cue, it’s scary. Looks at you to find your still asleep. Still breathing deep, heavy, and peaceful. So he sits up and removes your pants and underwear. Staring at your glistening cunt as he spreads your legs open, gently placing them on either side of his hips. His dick pulses in his palm as McCree wedges the fat head between your folds. Drags the weighty piece of rigid meat up. Rubs it against your clit. Warranting more moans. A few whimpers from between your dainty lips.  

“Am I keepin ya warm, sweetheart?” he asks quietly. Barely breathing as he presses his cock against your entrance. “Bet your just tinglin from your head to your toes.” Lord knows he’s warm. Sweating as he lays back down on top of you, not quite applying all of his weight. The motion naturally popping his cock into your pussy. McCree whimpers, something pathetic sounding, and braces himself on his elbows. 

“ _Fuck_ , baby-” McCree pushes in just a little more- “God damn, your tight, so fuckin tight….” Cunt so snug he’s almost sure you’d be complaining about his girth if you were awake. He’s hardly been moving but that doesn’t keep him from being out of breath. He grunts, almost pained as he pushes in further. Your insides are  _hot_ reminding him of home, a stark contrast to the weather outside.

Languidly he drags his cock along your walls. Steadily working up the pressure in his core. Giving you sweet kisses, playing with your splayed hair. Stomach jumping every time you whine, whimper, moan or sigh against his mouth. “Are you gonna cum, baby?” Feeling braver he thrusts just a little faster. Your velvet clamping down on him impossibly tight. “Oh shit… fuck, angel… that’s it– cum on your daddy’s cock…cum… cu–”

Just before thick, healthy ropes of cum spurt into your womb McCree pulls out. Closes the head of his dick in his palm and catches it all. Sticky, cloudy cum seeping out from between his fingers. A slight wash of shame enveloping his features as he looks at his palm full of mess. Before he gets up to wash it away down the sink he gives you a kiss and a promise. “I’ll put cha back together in a sec okay?”

As promised you’re redressed, even rolled back over into the position he had found you in when he got here. Now he can finally lay down and enjoy the little nest you had put together on the floor. Cuddle up to you and fall asleep. Not bothered one bit by the cold, in fact, it’s the farthest thing from his mind.

 

 


	81. Sojiro/Hanzo x Sister!Reader (noncon, voyeurism)

The long table is abuzz with chatter. Business is good. The last clean sweep of a clan running their mouths went swimmingly well. Not that cattiness is enough to earn such a harsh, finite fate. They made one too many attempts to sabotage deals. With one near devastating, successful one that put the final nail in their coffin. The assassins at his table have been sated of their bloodlust, however, they still need to be shown gratitude on Sojiro’s part. In order to keep them hungry. Keep them loyal. Money as a form of gratitude is easy, near shallow with men of this caliber. They want something one of a kind. An experience that none other than the ones in this room will ever get to speak of. 

That’s where his children come into the picture. And the video that he’s casually watching on his halopad in private mode, while his underlings vulgarly joke around. Bellies warm with sake and beer, awaiting the next point of discussion: the very first video that caused sleep to evade him. His instincts were right. Suspicions justified. Of  _course_  they were, it’s no surprise. When he felt there was something not right about his children’s blossoming relationship. Sojiro’s never been the type of parent to grossly invade his children’s privacy, but different situations call for different measures. 

In the case of the boiling rage in his chest at the mere thought of what might have been going on, he didn’t hesitate to have a camera planted in your’s and his room. Sojiro both watches you and Hanzo exchanging looks to his left while he watches the two of you fuck each other in your bed. Hair that is now neatly pulled back into a smooth ponytail, wild and bouncing in time with every slam of your bare ass in Hanzo’s lap. The small bud in his ear delivers sounds of your hushed whorish moaning, Hanzo’s low pleasured grunts.  

Sojiro feels as if he’s watching a theft. A theft happening night after night for how long he’s unsure of, and the culprit is his own son. Sojiro was content to slowly coax you into his own lap. Endlessly spoiling you, making sure that no day went without you having some of his fleeting and thinning time. Gradually holding you closer and keeping you there for longer. Careful he didn’t want to spook his girl away before she got used to the idea. Being a man who vigilantly prepares to handle all outcomes of a situation, he did not plan for you to end up falling for your big brother instead. Slow and steady makes him the fool. 

Now Sojiro finds himself feeling livid as he catches the subtle movement of Hanzo’s arm underneath the table. You squirm in your seat, a peach blush flushes on the apples of your cheeks, something beautiful that within normal circumstances would have warmed his heart. 

Here and now the sight moves him to disconnect the halopad from the earbud. The room goes dead silent, save for the sounds of his daughter as you’re starting to cum and every single person at the table can now hear it. Peach turns into apple red. Your eyes glassing over with tears as you look at the thing causing your chagrin in his white-knuckled grasp. 

“Chichiue…” Hanzo says. Hands reappearing from under the table held slightly up in a small surrender. “I understand what you must be think–” 

“I assure you, my son, you do not.” Even when Hanzo knows he’s in the hot seat, his jaw grindes in response to being cut off. Eyes narrowing. No matter how much he might be trying to keep his polite composure and play his part as the dutiful, respectful elder son.  

“We were careful…” you offer up. 

“I’m aware.” Sojiro flips the screen so you can see it. “And that is of no consolation to me.” He doesn’t need to see it to know that Hanzo’s body is going lax on top of yours, while you’re peppering sickly sweet kisses on his shoulder. You’ll bite and he’ll pull your hair in return. 

As moaning starts to taper off into blissful hums Sojiro turns it off. Looks to his son whose face and neck is beat red, points to the table. “Make her do that.” 

Hanzo, perfectly understanding what’s being demanded of him, carefully protests with a shake of his head. “Shouldn’t we discuss this in private?” he asks, leaning across the table, a small pleading motion.  

“No. You  _should_  obey.” Tears have started to stream down your face. Mouth open, quivering with words that you can’t get out. Looking you dead in your eyes, Sojiro leans forward enough for the things he is going to whisper to you to only be heard by you and you alone. “Know that I am punishing you because you have broken my heart.”   

“Papa…” you whine. Eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Insistently you say, “I don’t understand…” 

“You will.” Sitting back in his seat he nods to the table. Gives both of his kids a cold unyielding look. “Over the table. Give our loyal assassins a show. A good one. Do not keep them waiting.” 

While some of the faces of Sojiro’s assassins are glowing with their excitement, some are lazy, eyes narrowing into slits, small grins as they sit back in there seats puffing on their pipes, and sipping more of their alcohol. 

Others are predatory, smug. Eyes trained on every single new place Hanzo’s hands are put on your body. Whether it’s on your arm, to insistently pull you up off the chair you’d rather be glued to, or their placements on your hips as he positions you against the edge of the table. The hand planted firmly between your shoulder blades. Hanzo pushes, near forceful due to your resistance until he has you laying face down on the table.   

“The show isn’t over until she cums, by the way. We all know what a genuine one sounds like… so no theatrics,  _koneko_.“ Sojiro looks to you. Frowning, eyes shut tight to block out of the voyeurs, and fists clenched on the table. For a minute fraction of a moment, his stomach lurches and Sojiro briefly considers taking family matters behind closed doors without thirsty gazes drinking in every single moment of this punishment.

But then you whimper, moan strangled and self-conscious. Hanzo rubs circles through your panties. Eyes downcast, refusing to look at the men palming their bulges. Cheeky, your underwear accentuates and bares the swell of your lower cheeks. Skirt flipped up, draped over your back. Hanzo was perceptive enough to know not to try and save his sister’s modesty. Skipping the formality of Sojiro having to demand he removes the skirt completely so they can  _see_  what he’s doing to his aneki. 

As Hanzo undoes his belt buckle, yanks down his zipper, and frees his cock the assassins at the table are doing the same thing. Some reaching between the folds of their yukatas, others fumbling with the ties on their gis, other’s keeping their erections within the confines of their clothes opting to instead shove their hands into their pants and fist their arousal there. Sojiro leaves his own alone. Lets it pulse and strain against his pants. Blood beating harder and harder with every little whine from your pouty lips. The way your ass squirms, hips lift up off of the table as Hanzo peels your underwear down your legs.   

Hanzo briefly looks at him before he sinks inside of your body. A look that was sharp with spite, and laced with disappointment. Sojiro nearly scoffs at it. If Hanzo believes he’s being cruel now, Sojiro is remiss to think of the way his son is going to handle his father claiming his daughter. It would be wise for him to enjoy his time with you bent over the table cause it’s going to be some time, if ever before he’ll get this privilege again.   

With his hands gripping your waist, pinning you down, and arching your back Hanzo starts to fuck you. Angry, deep, and fast. Grunting with every thrust. A few of the men grunting along with him, cursing under their breath. The rooms alive with the sound of slick fucking. Whether it’s through fists, or Hanzo’s dick pounding away at your cunt. Your eyes have opened up, cheek squished on the table facing Sojiro. A hollow stare past him at the other side of the room. Body jolting forward with the momentum at your back. 

After hearing your lustful bedroom proclamations second hand for so long it sends shivers through his spine to hear them first hand. Shivers that carry warmth into his crotch, pooling heavy, spreading through his thighs, and now he’s starting to feel antsy. Body flushed with boiling heat and pressure that needs–  _wants_  so badly for the space between your legs that is currently occupied by his thief of a son. 

Sojiro breaths in deeply through his nose. Bates back the urge to tell Hanzo to vacate and take a seat while Papa finishes out the show. How much longer this will be running for depends on whether or not you are going to be able to let go of your humiliation, or harness it enough to come to your end. Hanzo’s hands move from your waist to your hips. Gives you a rough thrust that makes you cry out and breaks the hollow stare. Eyes widen as you turn away from him and face towards the assassins. A couple of the men cumming at the sight of your struggling body and gaping mouth, spraying seed all over their clothed chests. Others holding out for the end that is well on its way.    

With every slam into your wet pussy, Hanzo pulls your hips back and in swiftly. Neck taught, veins bulging. Sojiro wonders how agonizing it must feel to hold back his release. Despite how badly Sojiro would like to clear the room and take what’s his he’d be content to continue to watch his son struggle. That won’t be the case cause then you take in a sharp, shaky breath. Moaning, arching your back finding it difficult to find a place to put your hands while you cum. 

“Cum inside her.” Sojiro is quick to instruct just before Hanzo was going to pull out and spill his seed all over the floor. Once he’s done jerking, growling, expanding inside of you, and leaving a mess Sojiro orders him to have a seat. The men who have found their satisfaction leave without saying a word, just slight bows and they’re gone. Off to work on the next job. 

The few stubborn ones left still stroking their cocks stand to get a view of your leaking cunt. Hanzo tenses, you whimper and look at Sojiro shaking your head begging, “Papa, please…” 

“They’re not going to touch you.” The reassurance is for you, but also a warning for the men creeping up behind you. Again one by one they leave. The very last man looking fevered as he jerks his length, focused hard on your sex, degrading you underneath his breath. 

“Filthy cunt…” “Disgusting little brother fucker…” “Fucking whore…” “Push it out you incest loving  _bitch_ ….” “Pretty girl… pretty… lovely little slut…” 

Hanzo looks as like if given the chance he’d turn around and snap his neck. Sojiro couldn’t care less, whatever the man needs to do, short of touching you, to cum, so Sojiro can finally call this meeting to an official close. Suddenly he does cum. So violently the man nearly falls down to his knees with the force of his orgasm.  

“My apologies, sir,” the man says while putting himself away. Perpetually bowing, hanging his head until he’s put away and ready to leave. 

“Forget it,” Sojiro says dismissing him with a wave of his hand. Once the man is gone, and it’s just him and his deflated, shell-shocked children he asks you specifically, “do you understand now?” 

With a trembling bottom lip still laying chest down on the table, you shake your head from side to side. Sojiro sits back, the bulge in his pants becoming more apparent with the tightening of the fabric as he leans. He pats his leg. “Sit, and allow me to explain.” 


	82. Scion!Hanzo x MamaShimada

Hanzo’s eyes drift closed as her fingers pinch the corners of his collar. She tugs gently, humming in contemplation. He doesn’t need open eyes to know his Mama is scrutinizing every crease, fold, and every stitch. The dress shirt, vest, pants, even the gloves, and shoes have been weaved and custom made right before their eyes by the most talented omnic tailor in Japan. Professional, the omnic stands poised, ready, and willing to take any lick of scrutinization to his work no matter how scalding it might end up being.  

In fact, he fishes for it. “Is there something that needs adjusting, Madam?” 

Four feather-like fingertips graze down his waist, following his natural curve from Hanzo’s ribs to his hips. Raising the hairs on his neck, goosebumps along his arms. Feet light, air-like. If he doesn’t get a grip on himself he might start floating away. Hanzo gulps. The lump’s hard to swallow, uncomfortable, finding that the collar is just a tad too small. 

“The waist could be brought in an inch or so. A little loose, see?” She points out to the tailor. 

The omnic, of course, humbly agrees. Hanzo opens his eyes to find the robot approaching him. He also mentions the collar and the omnic assures him he’ll take care of both the adjustments with the utmost haste. That haste has the tailor reaching for his neck. One hand remaining nimble, metal fingers while the other bends back and opens up into a compact, custom made sewing tool. Complete with sharp, shiny scissors and a long, pointy sewing needle.  

The omnic with good intentions is intent on adjusting the collar while it’s on him, for convenience and Hanzo’s live input; but his mother snatches up the tailor’s wrist before it’s able to come in contact with his skin. 

“ _Not;_  while it is still on him,” she says with authority. Gorgeous, wise features creased with great offense. Hanzo’s chest puffs, welling with pride at the sight, knowing that even though the omnic is instantly backing off in a perpetual bow, apologizing profusely, that she is not quite done. With pursed, perfectly painted lips, she undoes his buttons proficiently while giving the omnic advice. “In the future, know that it’s unwise to put a hand to the throat of a man such as this without expressed permission first.”    

“Of  _course_ , Madam. My deepest most sincere apologies, Madam.” 

“ _And;_  preferably without lethal weapons attached to your wrist.” She slides her immaculately soft hands under the folds of his dress shirt. Gliding effortlessly over his shoulders as she gently pushes the fabric back. Sighs, a musical hum while she hands over the shirt to the chastised omnic. Whispers to her son a question: “I’m being too much?” 

Hanzo takes a hold of her wrist, brings it to his mouth placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “ _Hardly_ – you’re perfectly enough.”  

She grins, toothy and wide. His heart beats harder in his bare chest. It would be a simple motion, easy to bring her there. Cheek pressed against his furnace-like skin, have her feel the physical ramifications of what she does to him. Shocked to find that she’ll feel it anyway when she places a palm over it. Cups his cheek with her other, and traces his cheekbone with her thumb. Grin dissipating into a wistful smile the more she studies his face. 

“Perplexing… you just keep growing up! Day by day you look more and more like your Papa.” His Mama lovingly pats his face, Hanzo’s head spins with the comment. Heart rabbit thumping against his ribcage. He finds it hard to believe that she could truly be unaware of her effect on him. The woman who knew when her sons were up to mischief before they even knew. Before they could so much as even think it. She pays the rhythm against her elegant hand a small, curious nod. Adds: “It’s almost as if he never really left us– you… absorbed his essence. He’s right here,” she says drumming her fingers across his pec. 

His whole body warms over with intense, chest paining devotion. If he were in private quarters he might have dropped to his knees and promised his loyalty to her. Lowered himself chest to the floor promising her the world. Here and now with the prying eyes of each guard posted at every corner of the room, and the talented tailor who is already done with the adjustments on the shirt Hanzo simply says, 

“I’ll take care of you, just as he did.” 

When she removes both of her hands to hold them to her chest, smiling at him adoringly, Hanzo feels surpisingly void. Like her touch was filling him from head to toe. A large part of him is wishing for more dissatisfaction. More alterations leads to more fidgeting. 

“To think I’ve ever been told that you’re incapable of being sweet.” 

And more alterations there will be. The omnic certainly doesn’t mind; he’s paid by the hour, and at a hefty sum. The longer it takes the heavier his pockets will be whenever he leaves. Every new piece is scrutinized just as much as the last. The belt, looped and perfectly placed. Pants, creased, tugged, and smoothed. Sleeves rolled up. Every button on the vest tested for strength, all by her. 

By the time he’s fully dressed to the nines, adjusting his gloves while he checks himself out in the mirror all he’s thinking about is the dainty touch on his back, and what his mother thinks of the finished product.   

Her approval comes in the form of a gripe. Shaking her head from side to side, tsking; the average observer would think she is unhappy with the suite. “How is it that a man this handsome isn’t married, and I don’t have a grandchild hanging off of every one of my limbs, hm?” 

“I’ve yet to find anyone who lives up to the impossible standards you’ve set, Mother.” 

She scoffs. “Flattering me is not going to fill my grandbaby-less void— you’d think Genji would have at least given me an accidental one or two by now…”

Hanzo fights a deep frown. He hates the way his gut twists, the tightness that acclimates in his chest whenever his brother is brought up by her. The red-hot feeling of jealousy so powerful he finds it hard to breathe. The way his mother so nonchalantly brings up Genji’s irresponsible nature nearly sours his mood. 

“Relax,” she coos, sensing his tension. Rubs the space between his shoulder blades. “You’ll find a solution,” she says, raising her eyebrows, illuding to Genji. At least in that notion, she does acknowledge him as a problem. “Meanwhile, your Mama is going to have to have patience. All good things are worth waiting for, yes?” 

Hanzo finds her gaze in the mirror. “Yes– they are.”


	83. Daddy!Hanzo x Daughter!Reader (Noncon, non penetrative sex, physical abuse)

Tsuyu season has been in full effect for weeks. While the sun hasn’t completely abandoned Hanamura it only works parttime these days. Many of the servants around the castle have complaints. Rain boots are a hassle, unsightly compared to their everyday socks and geta; though necessary if they don’t want wet feet. Those whom’s umbrellas seem to have run off on them have to run across the estate to avoid becoming completely soaked through (likely stolen by others who had forgotten their own umbrellas or lost them).  

Even the estate itself finds a way of voicing its gripes against the downpour of weather on its head. Leaks never fail to spring up, found when someone finds that they are being rained on while standing underneath a roof, this keeps the handymen/women busy. Who in whispers to eachother grumble and complain about the traditional structure of the castle. The castle is old. During weather like this, it shows.  

For you, the Shimada empire’s Hime, the oyabun’s daughter, the rain isn’t much of a chore. You’re never left wanting for an umbrella. Often you aren’t required to so much as  _hold_  the umbrella, your handmaiden holds it for you. You think your rainboots are cute. While you sympathize with the servants who have to deal with the leaks, it doesn’t affect you unless one happens to show up in your room. Even then the small issue is dealt with as if it’s the biggest issue. 

In the past, you’ve found the rain to be calming; a nice thing that lulls you to sleep. It smells nice, fresh. Therapeutic after a long day of training, studies, and socializing with important people. Over the past few weeks, however, the rain has been a hindrance, anxiety-inducing. Double as bad when the thunder shows up with the heavy thudding rain; such as it has tonight.  

You can’t hear your door slide open, whether it be your front or balcony door; his careful footsteps, or his breathing. Can’t sleep not knowing if he’s showed up or not. Too afraid to look around and see if he’s sitting in his corner drinking from his gourd, watching you sleep. Don’t like peaking over your shoulder ever since you caught him with his hand in his pants. You’ve stopped questioning his presence. Any time you gathered the courage Hanzo either told you to “go back to sleep,” or didn’t acknowledge your question altogether.  

Each time Chichiue shows up he brings with him tummy twisting tension and leaves it. It collects in your room and can’t be aired out no matter how long you leave your balcony door open for. Not even the power of mother nature can cleanse the aura that he carries with him. It’s becoming thick, static clinging to your skin. Making it crawl with tingles. Something’s going to give; it’s not going to be you. 

The wood floor just next to your bed groans. Your heart beating hard in your chest. Body going unnaturally still. Eyes shut so tight the corners fold over and crease. Adolescently thinking that if you just ignore the monster it’ll go away. It can’t hurt you if you don’t acknowledge it. But he’s no mythical creature, and you’re no longer a child, incapable of being so naive. You’d had a looming feeling that Papa would only be content with looking at you for so long.  

Hanzo brushes your hair away from your face. Horrible, jarring electricity strikes through your chest, springing your eyes open. He leans forward on his knees, rests his forehead on your temple, breathing heavily against your cheekbone. Sickly sweet alcohol scent floods your nose. Rolling over onto your back, you swallow to bring moisture back into your dry mouth and throat, lick to soothe your lips. 

He watches your tongue peek out and disappear leaving a wet, glistening mouth. Hardly hears your attempt to placate him. “Papa? Do you wanna lay down with me? We can cuddle–”

“I’m going to touch you.” Hanzo cups your face, glides a thick thumb over your dewy lips. Forcibly pops his thumb into your mouth, drags it across your tongue making you taste salted skin. “…Just a little. Only a little…” 

You’re in such a state of shock, eyes blown wide. There’s no protesting the intrusion in your mouth, or what you’ve just been told. Thunder rolls overhead, rainwater drips onto your cheek. Not from a leak, but from his soaked hair. In fact, his whole body is soaked. Normally a light grey, cotton pajama yukata a dark grey. Hanzo pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging a string of saliva down your chin as he caresses your neck.  

“You’re soaked–” you roll back over onto your side– “let me get you a towel.”

“No.” With an open palm on your chest, he pushes you back down onto your back. Throws your blankets back exposing your bare, gooseflesh covered legs. Straddles your hips, and sits back on your thighs, locking you into position. You whimper, mouth back to being cotton-like.“I am not bothered– lay still, Hime.”  

Ever the obedient little daddy’s girl you go stiff as a board. Even if the drunk Papa hovering over you, palming your breasts with hungry eyes seems like an entirely different person from the one you interact with in the daylight. 

The farther Hanzo’s hand travels the harder it is to stay still, pulled taught body wanting desperately to react violently to the contact. Once over your stomach, he lifts your shirt. Only an inch, exposing your lower belly; ghosts fingertips over your panty covered mound; uses one finger to press the fabric into your deep into your slit. Accentuating the unique shape of your cunt. Not as alarming as it would have felt if he had stuck it bare, right between the folds of your delicate flower, but it still makes your body quiver.  

Hanzo reaches out and cups your face. Feels loving, he even looks loving, while he’s fingering your slit. “You’re an  _angel_. Precious– so… pristine.” Mesmerized Papa grazes his thumb across your cheek. Leans forward, hovers his face over your own. Hard focused on your mouth, he expels a rough bout of air through his nose, making your hair flutter. “Stick out your tongue.” 

Timidly you do as you’re told. Open up your mouth and let your tongue loll out. He takes it eagerly in his own, sucks on it with a rumbling growl, deep enough to challenge the thunder. Beard tickling your cheeks as he passionately kisses your slack mouth. Enough of a distraction to keep you from protesting as the finger nestled between your clothed labia turns into a whole hand slipped into your panties, rubbing your clit. Keening against his mouth, you attempt to tell him “no,” but it doesn’t sound like anything.   

Suddenly the loving hand on your cheek is on your throat, squeezing lightly. “Be Papa’s sweet girl,” he says. Hanzo grabs the gourd from his hip, and pops the cork with his teeth then lowers it to your lips. “Drink.” You open up again. Sake pours into your mouth, overflows, and nearly makes you choke as it waterfalls over your chin; burns it’s way down your throat, and warms your belly. 

Without any warning signs, the gourd is slammed down on the floor and Hanzo swiftly smacks you across the face. Hard enough to warrant a highpitched yelp, but not neck turning. Your mouth falls open once again, aghast. It didn’t  _really_ hurt, a mere sting and flush of heat, but you start crying anyway. Hanzo frowns, eyes softening. Hanzo slips two fingers between your folds -wet, despite your adverse feelings- and leans forward to tenderly kiss the cheek he just hit. 

“…  _Papa,”_ you whine pitifully _. “…_ Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, no–” he kisses your cheek again and again– “you are  _perfect_ …”

Poor you, you don’t understand. Grown up, not quite naive enough to believe in the boogyman anymore, but still so ignorant in many other respects. Involuntary a moan escapes your trembling lips. Much louder than either you or Papa was expecting. Thankfully there are no worries to whether or not if any of the guards heard it, or your handmaiden who’s cubby room is right outside your door. The thunder conveniently rolls right over it, and the rain thuds with new found fury against the roof.   

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Hanzo asks. 

Red cheeks, a pulsing clit, the slick that’s making his fingers slipping between your folds sound obscenely lewd, your squirmy hips would suggest,  _yes_. “No,” you whine. Sniffle and shake your head from side to side. “Feels wrong.” 

Hanzo humphs, sits back up. Soft replaced with fire in his eyes. Your gaze goes directly to the prominent outline of his hard dick lifting the light fabric of Hanzo’s pants. And an even darker, smaller grey spot that stands out from the rest of his wet clothes. The embarrassment from gawking at it, and all the pressure in your lower tummy has you groaning, throwing your arms over your eyes to try and hide away from it all. 

“Papa!” You grab ahold of his wrist. Panting, panicked. “You said just a little…”

Hanzo closes his eyes, removes his hand from your underwear only to roughly shove it down into his own, and the pressure subsides. He grips the bulge that to your immense shame, couldn’t keep your eyes away from. 

“Do– one more thing for me, Hime.” Papa jerks his cock inside his bottoms, and you shake your head, agreeing to whatever it is before he lays it down; because you’ll do anything if it means this will end. “Ask me to hit you.”  

“Papa– hi- hit me?” 

This time when his palm connects with your cheek it’s harsh, no doubt if you’re being a baby or not; that  _hurt_. Little pin prickles and heartbeats under his palm. His hand stays there. Painfully gripping your face through his orgasm while he cums inside of his pants. Falls forward slurring praises, leaving sloppy kisses on your flaming cheek. 

“Good girl, you did a great job, Hime… wonderfully– amazing…”

Your heart swells, a tingle on your scalp; praise digging sweetly into your belly. As it always does when he compliments you. The pain in your face doesn’t feel so bad, after weeks the tension finally feels as if it’s lifted an alleviating amount. 

Hanzo falls over to your left side thudding onto his back. You should learn to avert your eyes more, that way you’d avoid the awful shame you incur when you don’t. Your head rolls over just in time to see him holding his the hand that spent so much time entangled in your pussy lips to his nose. Eyes shut tight Hanzo inhales deeply, chest rising tall with the intake, and falling back down with a satisfied sigh. 

His eyelids sleepy they flutter lazily back open and catch you staring. Unfazed, Hanzo pats his chest; two hard thumps. “Come here.”

Regardless of what just happened, you’re still eager to wedge yourself in the crook of his arm. Lay your head on his chest. Feel and hear his heartbeat. It’s always been a source of comfort for you. Saftey from the storm. 

Feeling self-conscious you ask, “Papa, do you love me?” 

“More than anything, Hime.” 

You hum anxious emotions quelled. Nuzzle, pleased against his pec. “Love you too.” 


	84. Puppycree x Fem!Reader (Oral)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree is a hybrid, not an actual dog. No bestiality here.

Today has been quite the day for you and your pup, Jesse. Your home had been quite loud and full of people not an hour earlier. You like to celebrate the Fourth of July during the day. Versus the majority with their festivities during the night time. With good music, good food, good drinks and good company.

 _Especially_  ever since you took in Jesse; wholly because of him when you put thought into it. Most holidays the hybrid pup’s just as festive, if not more hyper than you are (he’s naturally excited on behalf of you often. And often far more excited for you than you are about whatever thing you’re looking forward to). But there are two holidays in particular he loathes.

New Years Eve and the Fourth of July.

The cracks and pops of fireworks put Jesse on edge. Before they even start, at that. Just the prospect of what’s to come has him whimpering, jumpy, and in an unusually sulky mood from the moment he wakes up on those days.

Today was no different. Though, his mood shifted once the people started filing in. The life of the party, that dog, and people love to give him the attention that he craves. Hybrids aren’t unheard of but not all that common and often end up the center of attention. Not all hybrids are happy with this fact, but for Jesse, he’s perfectly willing to soak it all in. You’re surprised he doesn’t get a sunburn from all the basking he does, such a ham.  

And on these holidays the attention and curiosity are especially good for him. Keeps him distracted. Save for the few early pops that caused him to yip and growl, warranting pitty pats and party goers to assure him that everything was alright, he wasn’t nearly as unhappy as he would have been without it all.  

But now the crowds are gone, the house cleaned up, and the Sun is starting to set. Jesse’s sitting next to you shoulder to shoulder. His tail in your lap swishing from side to side restlessly. He’s looking around the room as if an intruder might appear at any moment. The fireworks pop. Loudly and in quick succession. His whole torso jolts, he growls, and his tail thumps in your lap.

A growl threatens to turn into a bark. Rumbling too deeply and too long in his chest. “Hey, hey,” you say as you run your fingers through his hair. “No big boofs.” You pat your lap. “Come here, lay down.”

McCree eagerly follows your command (he was itching to lay in it anyway). He lays down in your lap, face nuzzling into your belly, and with his fluffy tail tucked between his long legs. You hoped, by now, that his intake of beer would have quelled his nerves for the night (alcohol while being toxic for pure dogs is okay in moderation for hybrids. Jesse’s a big boy with a big liver, unlike his much, much smaller counterparts.)

A growl rumbles in his chest when more fireworks go off. He buries his face into your lap, nuzzling, sniffing. “I hate this,” he grumbles. “I know it’s nothin’ much, but I can’t help but be scared.” He whimpers. A sad sound, one that breaks your heart. He buries his face harder into your lap. “Makes me feel like a real dumb mutt,” he mumbles.

You scratch him behind the ears and tut-tut. The sensation coaxes his tail out from between his legs, his face softens, your heart doesn’t ache as much. You sigh. “You’re not stupid, Jesse,” you say. “Humans are afraid of irrational stuff too, it’s okay.”  

By now you know that Jesse has several different types of growls. Some that mean, “ _danger_!” Some that mean, “ _back off_!” Some that mean, “ _play with me_!” And some that mean, “ _yeah, yeah whatever you say_.” And that growl’s the one you just received.

The more fireworks that go off the more McCree noses into your crotch. You cup your hand over his ear to try and muffle some of the sounds. As soon as everyone left you took a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. So now you’re wearing short, shorts and, well, nothing else underneath. It’s summer. It’s hotter than Hell. You were of half the mind to forgo the clothes altogether. You squirm as he noses even deeper, his face glazing over in a trance-like state.  

It was only a matter of time before your good boy started licking, it’s shocking that his tongue stayed in his mouth this long; the thing seems to have a mind of its own sometimes. The pink, wet muscle glides across your inner thigh. Slow, long, mindless drags, his eyes closed dreamily. You jolt.  _That tickles_. Jesse licks and licks and licks. The ticklish sensation drifts away into a more pleasing one the wetter your skin becomes. Your inner thighs shine. You’re feeling hot and not because of the weather.

More fireworks sound off, the loudest and longest ones yet. McCree’s body tenses exponentially with each new string of noise. His teeth bare against your skin and you shiver. He growls, short and halfhearted. You stroke his hair, rub his back. “Shhh,” you cooed. Breathlessly you say, “It’s alright, you’re okay.”

As the fireworks fizzle out he melts into a mass of soft hair and hard muscle. He noses your shorts to the side, sniffs over and over again in short bursts. The tip of his nose grazes over your lower lips, air puffs hot and the tickling sensation is back all over again.

You say his name in the midst of a strong sigh. McCree’s ears fold back against his head. He pulls back slightly. Stares up at you, worried. As if he might have been overstepping. Perhaps you’re not in the mood to indulge him. His big, brown eyes watery, pleading for reassurance and permission.  

“Don’t stop.” You pleaded. His ears perked right back up. You scoot forward and spread your legs a little to give him better access. Tug your shorts to the side. You tease and wiggle your hips. “Keep yourself distracted.” 

He grins; his tail thump, thump, thumping against the couch. He dives back in with his tongue out, eager to taste you. He spreads your lips apart with his thick muscle. From your vagina to your clit, over and over again. He licks and sniffs, licks and sniffs. Deep inhales that expand his chest. His tail thumps lazier and lazier the more immersed he becomes in your scent.  

“Mmm,” he takes another deep whiff, “love the way ya smell,” he sniffs again, “baby, I can’t stop.”

Fireworks sound off again. Your body tenses in anticipation of his tension. But besides a slight flick one of his ears, he doesn’t pay it much mind. Just keeps going at your pussy. Encouraging rush after rush of blood. It flows strongly into your crotch. Engorging your labia, and creating a steady throb in your clit.  

You moan and whine. Your hips squirm, unsure if the sensations are too much or just right or… “ _Jesse_ , oh shit,” your back arches and you throw your head back against the couch, “that feels so fucking good.” Carding your fingers through his hair you crip his locks tight at the base of his neck. “You’re so handsome– so good…. such a good boy…  _good boy_ , Jesse.”

Mindlessly, blissfully you keep chanting “good boy.” The more the pressure flowers in your core, the more you chant. And the more you chant, the more Jesse’s tail picks up its excited rhythm again; he loves to please you. All over the place, messy laps fade into more focused ones. He latches onto your clit and suckles vigorously. The direct, intense attention is jarring. Causes you to lurch forward. You curl over him, holding his head in your crotch, panting.

Neither you or he notices the fireworks anymore.

You throw yourself back against the couch as you cum. Chin tilted towards the ceiling, your mouth lewdly hangs open. The sensations tingle through your body from your head to your toes. McCree keeps at it, would keep on keeping at it all night if you’d let him. And you’d be content with that if it didn’t become far too much once your mind starts to come down from the clouds.

“Okay, okay.” You tug on his hair and he gets the hint. He detaches and makes his way up. He growls, this one meaning, “ _I’m real riled up, darlin’._ ” Draped across your lap Jesse hovers over your face, licks his lips. He whimpers and whines desperately. Waits with baited breath for you to kiss him. 

You don’t mean to keep your good boy waiting, you just like looking at him like this. With his rosed up cheeks and his hungry eyes. How somebody could be so cute and so sexy at the same time perplexes you.

You offer up your lips with a tilt of your chin and a small purse. He takes them greedily. He kisses you nice and deep and for as long as his will to lick allows him. You can sense when it’s coming so you open your mouth and let him in. When it comes to the “battle of tongues” that so many steamy works of fiction describe, McCree always wins. And you’re happy to accept your defeat.

His tail swishes so fast from side to side it casts wind across your legs. The fireworks are still booming, they’ll be going all night. So will you and McCree.


	85. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader (Breeding)

The bed groaned and creaked underneath him. Every enthusiastic, rhythmic thrust rustled the bed sheets and coaxed music from your mouth. McCree’s near his end, ready to fill you up. Ready to sit back, light up a cigarillo and marvel at his work as it seeped out of your pretty, red beaten little pussy. 

It’s hard, but good work, trying to get his favorite girl pregnant. 

“Lift your shirt, baby.” He was breathless, holding onto your thighs for dear life. You’d been full up on him every chance he had that day. But he’d been so inclined, fevered enough to give you more of him he’d hardly had the time to remove your panties, let alone your flowy nightshirt. “Show daddy your tits, baby,” he begged. You lazily pulled the fabric up, held it just under your chin.

His stomach muscles tightened, and so did his grip. McCree was right on the precipice. Just imagining your supple tits growing two times their size, full of milk, and leaking was almost enough to make him cum.  

“Where do you want me to cum, angel?” He thrusted deep. Stayed there and ground his hips. “Tell daddy where you want him to cum.” 

You reached down and spread your fingers on either side of the base of his cock, creating a V shape. “Right in here.” 

He could only spare a few more erratic thrusts before he came right where you told him to. He fell over, humping, kissing, sucking your perky nipples into his mouth while he rode out his release. 

A few moments later he was sitting back with a lit cigar just watching you be you. Beautiful and sleepy in the afterglow. 

You looked down at his seed seeping out of you and smiled. That was real precious but there was something else; a little tinge of worry you couldn’t hide from your old man. 

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” He reached out and gripped your ankle. “Was I too rough with ya?” 

You shook your head. “I think… I think that one mighta done it.” You brought your delicate, small hands to your belly. You smoothed them over your soft skin. Mimicking the shape of a big, round stomach you lifted your hands up from just under your breasts and then down to just above your mound. “Now ‘m all nervous…” 

He crawled on top of you, careful not to burn you with his cigar. He planted sweet, smoke-laced kisses on your neck. Asked you, “Why’s that?” 

You shrugged. “Dunno. Just am.” 

He continued to lavish your neck with wet kisses. And your collarbone, and your clavicles. Gave you one reassurance after the other, and made sure to cover his bases. Told you how healthy you were, the pregnancy would go well. Told you how gorgeous you’d be pregnant, he’d want you just as much… hell maybe even a little bit more than he did at that moment. Told you you’d be a swell mother. And most importantly, daddy was going to be there for you for anything unforeseen that might come your way. 

“Love you, baby girl, don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothin’,” he said.  


	86. Hanzo/Sojiro/Genji x Sister!Reader (Anal)

You’ve fazed out Sojiro and Genji. Both of the men waiting patiently for their turns (as if they don’t have a good show to keep them entertained; Hanzo didn’t feel like sharing tonight.) A few hours ago they had arrived home from a tasking mission. You’re more than happy to hand over the free reign of your body; as a thank you for all the hard work they do for the empire.

With eyes glazed and staring blankly at the ceiling. Your fingers dig into the underside of your knees, held back to your chest and spread wide. Your clit pulses from being teased. Your cunt clenches on nothing. Hanzo smacks your ass and brings you out of your dumbed out stupor.

He demands, “Eyes on me while you trance out.” Hanzo slams inside of your asshole, hard hips to your ass. Your back arches, breath sharp on the intake, and you smile. “Filthy slut,” he hisses. He picks up his pace and takes your breath away. Easily fucks you right back into your happy place.

You love how this feels. How every thrust feels like his cock’s going so deep, no matter how much he’s actually pushing inside of you. You can always count on Hanzo to ignore your cunt like it doesn’t even exist. It’s euphoric, the pleasure radiates through your whole body. Every few thrusts he glides his thumb over your clit. A small vibrator’s attached to his black glove, the only thing left of his suite. Light vibrations keep your clit red and on the edge. You’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last before your will gives out and you cum.

Edging is a beneficial, essential part of the experience because the longer you keep from cumming the longer you’ll have a cock in your ass. Being an addict, you want it for as long as possible. The moment you cum, Hanzo will cum. It happens every time, he can’t help himself.

Sojiro and Genji have never seen you like this. You’ll open your legs for any of them. But only Hanzo is so indulgent to stretch you open like this every time he comes around to take his turn. He takes pride in being the only one. Took your anal virginity, and keeps you satisfied. Laying claim over your hole; gets rock hard watching you submit your ass to him any time he wants it.

Hanzo plows into you, balls deep. Brows furrowed, watching his cock pull and tug at your tight asshole. His thumb presses more insistent over your clit, and you moan pained-like, gripping the sheets beneath you. You bite your lip hard to help fight back the feeling. Chanting to yourself, ‘don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum;’ pleading with your body to let you have a little more time. Your clit throbs dangerously strong. Pangs shooting down the sides of your labia, so intense it warms in the bone of your pelvis.  

Hanzo presses harder, goes faster. You bite harder and throw your head back. Face pained, cheeks and chest a flaming red.  

Hanzo’s jaw grinds, he narrows his eyes at you. “Such a greedy little whore.” He circles and pressures your clit even harder. You whimper pathetically; you shake your head, and not out of disagreement. If Hanzo demands it, you’re done for. He growls, “ _Cum_.”

You throw your hands down on the bed with a pout that’s quickly wiped away by a gaping mouth. You cum. A big, wet release, ejaculating clear liquid all over his chest. Intense, your whole body shakes; toes curl. Shamelessly you call out your brother’s name. The muscles in your belly and pelvis visibly spasming.

While you’re orgasm releases in spurts and makes a mess of his chest, he’s cumming and making a mess inside you. Hanzo pulls out of you, hot cum leaks from your gaping hole. He looks down at his chest and demands, “Clean your mess, disgusting girl.”

Eagerly you nod. Scramble to get on your hands and knees in order to catch as much of it as you can before it all dries or rolls off of his powerful chest. Briefly, you catch glimpses of Sojiro’s and Genji’s expressions. Their faces seemed disapproving? Disgusted? Bewildered? Nevermind them. They’ll be changing their tune soon enough.

You press your tongue to Hanzo’s navel and drag it all the way up to his right pec. He cups the back of your head and pets your sweaty, disheveled hair. “Good girl,” he praises.


	87. Sojiro x Daughter!Reader (Rough Sex)

The beats of the club thrummed in your ear. Beat in your chest. The melody inspired fast, whimsical movements. Your dress barely held its own against the fervent swings of your hips. You danced with no one in particular. Just danced. Let whoever drifted by place their hands where they pleased. Your head spun from the alcohol, body warm. You looked good and felt euphoric.

Where to or when your big brother disappeared you wouldn’t have been able to say. Knowing him, Genji must have found himself a clubber or two, a dark alley, a foreign apartment. Most likely was already getting his dick wet, satiating his taste for cock, or a nice clit. Already found his home for the night and possibly the up in coming days to follow. It didn’t matter to you. Contrary to his belief, you didn’t need him to have some fun.

Besides, you went out to the club with a purpose. An end goal in mind. Genji could take smug pride in “pulling you out of the house, like pulling teeth” all he wanted, but you’d already been eager and willing to rebel by the time he came to you with the invention. And you didn’t need Genji to meet your goal.

You left your phone at home, didn’t leave any sort of note to indicate your whereabouts or when you’d be back. If Sojiro did his investigating (and you knew he would), Papa would find the one handmaiden that happened to hear the name of the club you’re currently in. You didn’t explicitly tell her, but you knew she was nosy and incapable of minding her own business; she overheard. She wasn’t going to last very long at the castle. One of these days she’d be called into Sojiro’s office and never be seen again due to her big mouth.

Only time would tell how your punishment would start. You’d dance and dance, and dance. Drink whatever’s handed to you. Let whoever’s hand was sneaking under your dress rudely massage your labia through the sliver of fabric labeled as panties. And you waited that way. Waited to see if chichi would wait for you to come back home on your own, or if he’d send a guard to fetch his wayward daughter and drag your butt out of there and back where you belonged.

How or where the itch for rebellion, the itch to test your father’s threshold for cool and calm when he’s got searing anger coursing through his veins came from you’re not sure. Maybe it was all that porn you’d been reading. The stuff you’d been watching. The forums that gave you tantalizing ideas. Ways to test your dominates thresholds. Though you and your papa don’t have anything set up, anything that’s predisposed. As your father, he’s naturally dominant over you, and as his baby girl, you’re naturally submissive to him.

The rest of it, arguably unnatural or not. The timid touches that led to the late-night visits, that led to the hushed, heated, and desperate moment in his office that broke the damn, and the rest that would follow after, all felt natural to you.

The rules and expectations had been different for you from the day you were born. Because you’re you. The daughter. The baby of the family. Rules similar to those that had been laid out for Hanzo, just for vastly different reasons. You’re expected to stay home. Stay humble. Stay a good girl. A shining example of a Shimada.

You’d promised and given yourself to your Papa months ago. If a fly on the wall had the intelligence enough to judge it’d certainly wouldn’t call you a good girl, and would certainly call Sojiro a bad man for the things he does to you. But as far as you’re concerned. It’s his world. His rules. And if he says you’re a still his good girl, then you are.  

The one thing Sojiro held in the highest regard? Obedience. And you wanted to be punished for your willful disobedience. You could have talked it out, planned it out, and presented your wants to him; gone the safe route, the route all the forums preached to the highest of heavens. But contrived emotion is so boring, real emotion is more fun. Papa’s not the only one who can orchestrate. And you were ready to accept the consequences of manipulating a master manipulator, whatever they turned out to be, whether in your favor or not.

The next man who took the liberty of grinding against your backside received a sly, manipulative smile. You wrapped your fingers around his neck, held him in place so you could whisper in his ear a request.

“Get me a drink? Something strong,” you said. The question sounded more like a demand. You gently glided your knee between his legs and lightly pressed it into his crotch. Ground into a bulge and studied his face. Much too young, and far too mousy for your tastes, but he could still fetch a drink the same as only other man with legs.

He was more than happy to go and get you your liquor, embarrassingly so.  He eagerly left the dance floor. Uncoordinated and damn near goofy as he came back with a clear cup, full of clear liquid. Even if you were already drunk, sniffing the contents made you grimace.

“You said strong!” The man exclaimed.

Indeed you did. You sucked it up and took a swig. Strong to him meant half a cup of pure vodka. The harsh liquid coated your stomach, instantly made you even more swoony than previous. The music sounded better, the man looked more handsome; it would do. You got right back into dancing, paying no real regards to the man who brought you the drink. Fell right back into your own blissed-out world.  

Regardless of how much you ignored him, the man was determined to stay with you. The why was the erection, harder than it was before, pressed into the small of your bareback. The slope of your spine opened and exposed by the backless nature of your dress. One of his hands intruded the space between your thighs. Another glided up your spine. If you had looked behind at the mousy man you probably would have caught him drooling.

Suddenly the hands with death grips on the insides of your thighs were ripped away. So suddenly that it left fire in their absence. You whipped around and was met face to face with Sojiro’s most favored guard. Ah, your escort had arrived.

The guard nodded towards the exit of the club. You understood exactly what he was expecting. Heel-toe, be obedient.

Did you dare make a scene? Make a guard risk hurting a Shimada by dragging her out of the venue unwillingly? Simply being here isn’t quite going to make for news, make the streets buzz with chatter, but kicking and screaming, drunk and barely dressed? Acossted and being dragged back home? That would be the talk of the village, that might anger your father so much it would push your punishment past the threshold of enjoyable.  

So heel-toe it was.

Once outside you were faced with two cars. Two long, black cars. One for the guard, the other for you. Quite the spectacle. If Genji was anywhere nearby he’d be getting the hell out of the vicinity right about now. He can recognize a family car from miles away. The guard opened the door for you and gestured you get inside. The door closed behind you gently once you plopped down on the seat.

Sojiro leaned back all the way on the other side of the vehicle. One leg thrown over the other, arms draped across the seat. Silent. Disapproval etched into his sharp features as he meticulously took in the state of you. Your drunk sway, the heels, the dress, and the immodesty. All things that he would have been happy to take in, if only they had been preapproved. If only the dress was gifted by him, the alcohol given by his hand, the venue of his choosing.  

The driver asked if he should get going. “Not yet,” Sojiro said. “Have anything to say for yourself?” He asked you.  

You still felt somewhat brave (perhaps incredibly foolish) you shrugged in response, a thin shoulder strap fell, nearly exposing a breast. Sojiro’s jaw ground.

“Did you let anyone touch you?” 

“Lots of people touched me.” 

You practically felt the daggers from his stare pierce the bare flesh on your chest. “Perhaps I should be more specific. Did you let anyone fuck you?”

“No,” you whimpered. Hoped he believed you as you cowered back against the door.  

He pointed aggressively at the spot directly in front of him. The hesitation from you to follow the silent order didn’t come from disobedience, or drunk stupidity, rather from nervousness, from the butterflies that fluttered at the realization that you’re about to get what you’d been working for.

You caught the driver’s stare in the rearview mirror, and he quickly averted his gaze. Despite the curious onlooker, you crawled towards your papa. On hands and knees, the angle dropped your other strap and exposed your chest to him. Your tits bounced subtly as you moved, nipples hardened from anticipation.  

As you coyly crawled towards him it felt as if you were approaching a coiled, defensive, and pissed off snake. As soon as you were within range he strikes. He grabbed ahold of your neck and squeezed. Choked out a whimper from you, and a moan that sounded more like a whine to his ears.

“Have you become so adolescent that I would need to state what you have done wrong?” He spoke fast. Didn’t yell, but the venom in his words was still potent enough to feel it coursing through your veins. You heart picked up its pace. Sojiro was holding on too strong for a verbal answer so you shook your head.

“Turn around,” he demanded.

You scrambled to do as you were told. Your head spun with the speed in which you were trying to move. Forgetting all about the lowered partition. That was until your ass was up and your face was down. Cheek pressed against the cool leather of the seat. You opened your eyes and caught him staring again, this time he didn’t avert his gaze, only stared more intently through the mirror. You blushed and turned your head to stare blankly at the back of the seat, waiting.

“Pull up your dress.” 

You reached back and tugged on the fabric hugging your hip, once. It was all it needed to make the dress fall and bunch up around your waist. If it wasn’t for the tightness it would have fallen all by itself.

The leather groaned as he sat forward. You were expecting a spanking. One unlike anything you had ever felt before. Instead, you heard a distinct  _shink._ The sound of Sojiro unsheathing the small sword he keeps at his back. You go stiff as a board. It took him forever (or it at least felt like it) to press the blade’s edge against your skin just underneath the lace of your underwear on your hip. He hooked it underneath and cleanly sliced through the fabric. It fell loose and he did the same thing to the other side.

He sat back and carefully examined your underwear, kept the tip of the blade resting against the swell of your ass. He discarded the useless fabric once he didn’t find anything to interrogate you about. The blade left, abruptly replaced by an unkind hand. He gripped your ass and brought it closer to him. Shoved two fingers inside of you and spread them apart.

You yelped. Your back arched and you whimpered pathetically into the seat. Unlubed, the intrusion burned. You weren’t without your own natural lubrication. Hours of daydreaming on the dancefloor had done you a favor, without that the pain would have been sharp enough to make you cry. With it, it’s not so bad, even nice, so you rolled your hips and pushed back.

“Stay still,” he said with a hint of annoyance.  

You listened. Stayed as still as your drunk body would allow. He fingered open your hole. Aggressive, Sojiro pushed deep inside of you. His second knuckles pressed against your folds over and over again, feeling like a fist. He pulled down, opening you up. Added another finger to spread you wider. Checked for the fluids of another man and found nothing.  

“Take us home, but drive around the block a few times would you?” Sojiro finally addressed the driver, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “Do we need to have a conversation once I am done disciplining my daughter?” Sojiro asked him.  

“No, sir.” The man was quick to answer. He cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “None of my business, sir.” 

“Wise words.” Sojiro pressed the button that triggered the partition to roll up. “The show is over.” 

“Face me.” You turned around again, and he cupped your face. “Do you think I am unware of when I am being tested?” Sojiro squinted at you awaiting an answer. You bit your lip and shook your head; you had  _hoped_. “So now I am left with a dilemma. If I punish you I am rewarding bad behavior, because it is what you wanted, yes?” 

You pouted and nodded your head.

“But you were very bad, and embarrassing, look at how sloppy you are.”

Your eyes downcast to take at look at yourself. Crumpled dress, exposed tits. One heel still on your foot (barely), while the other was somewhere on the floor of the limo. 

Sojiro dragged a thumb across your lip. He hummed out of contemplation. “I think I will punish this smart mouth,” he stated while palming his belt. Pulled it loose and roughly undid his zipper. Your belly ached at the sight of his cock. Hard and immediately in your face. You squirmed and whined like a little dog awaiting a treat from its master. Opened your mouth and panted like one too.  

Sojiro tsked. “Quite unbecoming,  _koneko_.”  

Sojiro weaved his fingers into your hair and held on tight, ruined your perfectly pulled back ponytail, and sank into your mouth in one swift thrust. You gagged violently. Tears appeared in your water line, your back arched. First, he bobbed your head up and down, used your mouth like a fleshlight. Pulled out to grant air and dragged lewd strings of saliva that coated your chin, strung down and stuck to your chest.

Then he fucked your throat without any regard for your pleasure or comfort. Hit too deep, thrust fast and without pause. Yanked your head back by your hair. Demanded you look at him. You did your best through blurry vision. Blinked to cause the tears to roll. Your mascara bled down your cheeks, your lipstick though one of the brands that promised it could withstand almost anything, could not withstand a fast, angry cock.  

Sojiro’s hips may have been harsh and swift but he was not done so quickly. He kept going at your mouth until your cheeks were sore, and you were much more of a sloppy mess than you had initially come to him as. You whimpered every time he pulled out of your mouth. Desperate; a glutton for your punishment. He pushed your limits for air. Held your face down as flush with his crotch as he could until you were weakly swatting at his thighs; the only viable way to beg for mercy with a full mouth gagging on cock.

You tried to sneak a shaky hand between your legs. Your swollen clit was crying out for some attention. Every jab to the back of your throat, every disgusting gurgle of spit rushed blood down to your crotch. But Sojiro yanked your hair and scolded you for it. “You think you deserve to cum? Keep your hands off that naughty little cunt, focus on what’s in front of you.”

He jammed himself back in before you even had a chance to agree or complain. Held you down and ground into your mouth for so long you thought you might not be able to take it anymore.

Suddenly he pulled out. “Stroke it,” he panted. “Against your tongue. You had better not spill.”

You wrapped a fist around the head of his dick and stroked it. Uncoordinated, off balanced. If not for his hold in your hair you would have fallen over. Sojiro’s breath quickened. He breathed heavily out through his nose, face reddened as he came on your tongue. You tilted your head up to keep his cum from going anywhere but where he wanted it to. Hot salt coated your mouth, slid down your throat.  

You cradled his seed on your tongue until he was satisfied with looking at it. He said, “You may swallow.” Put himself away and straightened himself out while he watched you gulp it down and lick your lips. He looked down on you with a turned up nose. “I am not satisfied,” he said. “When we get home,  _koneko_? I am going to make you regret testing my patience.”  


	88. Daddycree x Daughter!Reader (First Orgasm)

Your hand flew down to grab ahold of your daddy’s wrist. You pried him away,  _really_  had to pry. He wanted more than anything at that moment, on that night, to make you cum. But every time the pressure would build, and you knew it was about to happen, it’d feel like too much to bear; it was far too intense. You just couldn’t handle it. Too scared to barrel through that wall, let go, and simply let it happen. You genuinely couldn’t take it.

“Oh, Lord, daddy please,  _please_ stop,” you sighed, breasts tinged pink, cheeks flushed with the same rosy shade, “I can’t do it,” you whined. 

McCree slammed his palm down on the side of your head. He growled; he was frustrated. He wasn’t alone, you were frustrated too! You pouted, fat lip, droopy eyes and everything. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you be sorry,” he said. He switched from his position laying down at your side to straddling your hips. McCree snatched both of your wrists up in one big hand and pinned them above your head. “Here’s what daddy’s gonna do for you, baby,” he slipped his hand back down between your legs. He pressed four fingers against your clothed swollen clit. Panties still on and soaked through, a testament to all the hard work your daddy had been putting in,

“I’m gonna make you cum, you’re gonna let me.” He started to gently rub; minute circles and a molasses pace. He lowered himself down ‘til he hovered right over your face. “And ‘m not stoppin’ this time, no matter how much you squirm and beg me to, understand?” 

You nodded timidly, said, “Okay,” agreeing to his concrete terms. You were ready for it, even is your body begged to differ. No matter how many times you’d touched yourself you certainly didn’t have the will to keep it going long enough to reach that plateau. So scared to tumble over by yourself, and well, that’s when you went to your daddy for advice and…

Your hips lifted as the feeling started to well throughout your whole body. That dreaded, well sought after tension that caused your heart to race and your legs to go weak. “Ooooh,” you whined. “Daddy, it feels like I’m gonna pee.”

“You won’t, sugar,” he said. His motions picked up their pace; faster little circles, more pressure. “Hush up now ‘n’ let it happen.” 

Your hips lifted into his heavy crotch. McCree, this giant mountain of a man on top of you. You realized then it was foolish to think it would have been easier with someone else’s hand building up the sensitivity and the pressure. It wasn’t easier to endure at all. That felt a hundred times more intense than it ever did when you went at it by yourself. 

Your eyes glazed over, McCree homed in on it. “Cum, baby,  _cum,_ ” he growled. He wasn’t the one about to orgasm but he was still close panting hot, cigar and whiskey-laced breath against your lips. 

You vehemently shook your head the way you always did just as it was about to happen. But that time you couldn’t reach down and tear his circling wrist away. Grasping hands still secured above your head. McCree only held them down stronger the more you wiggled and bucked under beneath him. 

Then it finally happened. Just as you had read so many times. An explosion of pleasure throughout your whole body. From your head to your curling toes. You strangled out a moan and then another one and another one. It felt incredible. Mind clearing, numbing. You couldn’t have possibly uttered a single word to why you were so afraid of having something that felt like _that_. 

McCree chuckles, a relieved, satisfied and smug sound. “There it is,” he said. He kept rubbing, slower and slower until your whole body was quivering and you gave him a look that begged, “ _That really is enough, daddy._ ”

 

 


	89. Hanzo x Sister!Reader (Just the tip)

Hanzo’s not sure which excuse it is that keeps him from ripping his sister’s hips away, throwing her on her ass, and storming off. Whether it’s the alcohol that sings through his veins making him more agreeable than usual, or the fact that deep in his guts he really wants to feel his little sister’s bare, virgin cunt. Raw, and tight, and so wet. He can see it because you make it a point to show it to him. How pink and glistening you are, displayed by two dainty fingers spreading the folds of your slick lips apart. A small gape catches his eye, your cherry red insides, unsullied but any other man.

You straddle his lap, lower yourself, and bounce your silky velvet just so against the tip of his exposed cock; you do it again and again until it just pops inside of you. As promised, a surprise to him (he doesn’t trust you right now) you, in fact, only take in the tip. It’s swallowed up and gripped tightly. “Only” the tip still has Hanzo’s hips lurching. Dangerous as he almost thrusts himself all the way into your pristine flower. You gasp. “It feels  _good_ ,” you say. Then giggle, wiggle your hips from side to side, so pleased with your current state.

The little hallway just under the bridge has a gravitational pull. But only once one of you is present. If he comes here to hide away and drink, you’re sure to show up sometime later; if it is you, who often does the same, he’s sure to drop in. Unexpected, but expected at the same time. You’ve guilted him into other, more innocent requests before. Mustered up those tears that he’s not willing to admit make him incredibly weak and pliable. His resolve isn’t stone but mere sand up against your tears; crumbling easily and giving way.

Past “curiosities” have led to kissing; some heavy petting because his muscles just look, “So strong.” Or Hanzo carrying you back to your room. You were “too drunk to walk.” You’d nuzzle his neck, brush rose petal soft lips against his clavicles, and slip your hand under his yukata to get a better hold. 

Not thirty minutes earlier after sharing his gourd, already swapping spit in a way, you’d expressed more curiosities. Hanzo believed you when you lowered your eyes, blushed; red alcohol-induced cheeks glowing redder, said you’d never seen a penis. He tried to deter by informing you, “Trust me, in time you will.” 

But you whined, begged him to show you his. So he opened up his yukata, all too willingly, and gave you the eye full you desired. “What makes it get all stiff and hard?” you asked; so full of it. He did not believe you were ignorant of what makes a man’s cock swell and grow hot with blood. 

“I wanna see it happen,” you said. Dropped one of your shoulders. Your silky, bedtime kimono fell “accidentally” until one perky, plush breast peaked out, and you didn’t rush to cover it up. Nipple already hard and pebbled; it gave Hanzo an instant image; a desire to grope and take it into his mouth. He wasn’t  _trying_ to fantasize, it simply happened, and was enough to give you what you wanted.

He finds himself in this moment only after you grew tired, bored of touching his cock, playing with the pre-cum that oozed, and marveling at how truly hot and truly stiff it was. Now you circle your clit with one finger, dripping slick down his shaft. “Touch it, Ani,” you demand. Grab his hand and place his fingers against your clit. It pulses and throbs against his rough fingertips, the muscle around it clenches. So responsive. You guide his pace; your small hand cupped over his giant one, in comparison to yours. Just long enough for Hanzo to pick up on the pace and the rythm. Then you let him go.

Your eyes roll back; breath stutters and hitches. You cum, hard. Banging your flat palm against the wood beside his head. You’re far too tight, the sensations, your entrance squeezing, fluttering causes his sensitivity to peak. “Get off, off!” He lifts you off and up. His stiff, bouncy cock falls back to his stomach just as he cums, shaft jumping with every spurt of seed that paints his pecs.

Your breast jiggles with every shaky intake of breath, your mouth gapes wide at the sight of his globs of cum rolling down his sweaty, smooth skin. Much longer and you’d start drooling. “I want to taste it,” you whisper.

That’s one curiosity that won’t be sated. Footsteps sound over the bridge. One moment your crowding all of his senses, the next, you’re gone. Scrambling to the other side, pulling your robes tight around your body. Your handmaiden, a strict, vocal woman, picked out just for you calls your name. 

“Young Miss? Are you under there drinking again?” The woman stomps down the stairs, comes to a stop at the bottom. Bows quickly. “Ah– you  _are_ under here _,_ we have more preening to do before the morrow arrives!” She motions for you to follow her, “Come, come!” 

You giggle at the words as you hop up onto your feet. Hanzo grumbles, “How mature.” The handmaiden addresses him, but he only acknowledges her with a slight side nod. Older women like her seem to know things. Afraid the old maid could sniff out the drying cum on his chest and smell it on your hands. 

“Til next time, Ani!” You practically sing as you prance up the stairs behind her. 

He huffs, yes, until next time. 


	90. Hanzo/Genji x Sister!Reader (SFW, mentions of blood and violence)

Genji cradled you against his chest. Legs locked around your waist, sitting on the floor. He wasn’t usually the kind of person who cradled women and rocked them like babies, but for you, he’d make the exception. 

The scent of copper flooded his nose, his arms shook like brittle twigs in the wind. His night was violently derailed but a few moments previous. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to deal with this calmly. He was doing his best to be strong for you; a hard task when he was so in the dark. Why you were hyperventilating, sobbing, and repeating yourself over and over, a mystery. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Genji listening and white as a brand new bedsheet, he pet your hair in an attempt to calm you down with his own mantra, 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re  _okay_.”  

“Back off,” Hanzo demanded of him. 

Hanzo sprinted off the moment you showed up on the porch, just outside the main eating area, where they had been catching up over sake and sweet kinako topped mochi. You stood with a blank stare, silent in the doorway like a ghost, trembling and splattered with blood. All over your face, your clothes. He came running back with a large white bowl of water, a glass of it, and a washcloth. He locked the doors, demanded of the staff stay away, and under grave penalties told that they were not to be disturbed. 

“But–” Genji stammered. 

“You are not making it any easier for her to breathe,” he said. “Move.”

Genji pried himself away from you. Hanzo took his place and carefully got to work wiping the blood from your face, not going so fast as to frighten you any more than you already were. He paused when you grabbed a hold of his wrist. Head heavy with sorrow as you leaned into his palm, and sobbed, “I  _really_ fucked up.”

“Where is the body?” Hanzo asked; a matter of fact, and far more cool-headed than Genji expected him to be. He was holding it together better than he was. “You killed someone, I can see it; not just in the blood on your shirt.”  

Your wet eyes may have blown wider in shock. Hearing said aloud, the thing you were struggling to say. But your breathing slowed down to a healthier pace. It was a relief that you didn’t have to confess what you had done. Hanzo’s sixth sense lifted that burden off of your shoulders. You confirmed with a small nod and a quaking lip. Tears rolled steadily down your cheeks. Genji’s heart ached, and his gut burned with the desperate need to know what happened. 

Genji and Hanzo were no strangers to death or taking life. Hanzo carried out jobs regularly and with no remorse. Genji used to do the same before he started running off and skirting his responsibilities. They’d both killed people, but the deaths were always planned, pre-approved. Just from looking at you he could tell that whoever died at your hand wasn’t meant to die, and it was in no way planned; you were never trained to take life.  

It was biased, that was certain. But whoever was dead surely deserved it. Your eye was swollen over, bruises peppered your arms, your lips busted right down the middle. Genji wasn’t so out of practice that he couldn’t put the clues that were plain as day together. 

“Elder Tanaka… he–he–” 

Both of Hanzo’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Elder Tanaka?” 

You nodded. “In my room..”  

“You felled Elder Tanaka?” Hanzo expells air from his nose. “Impressive.”

If you hadn’t  _laughed_ , Genji would have decked him. It’s true the man used to be a formidable assassin, but the time for flattery perhaps wasn’t right for that moment. But the brief smile on your face proved otherwise.  

“It was close,” you blubbered. 

“I’m sure.” Hanzo stood after placing the glass of water firmly in both of your hands. “But the outcome is all that matters.” Hanzo handed Genji the stained rag. “I’m going to inform father that we have an open seat on the council, and gather a cleanup crew.” 

At hearing that you broke out into a whole new wail. Begged, fruitlessly, for Hanzo not to tell father. Concerned and shaking with fear. You’d hardly ever gotten into any real trouble growing up. Your breath studdered in your chest. “…He’s going to be so  _angry_.”  

“Angry? Yes,” Hanzo said. “But not at you.” 

With that statement, he left. All Hanzo cared about was the where and the who. Leaving Genji to figure out the what, when, and the why. Genji would have to remember to thank him when he gets the chance. If Hanzo hadn’t dismissed the idea that father would be angry he probably would have fueled that fire. He was taking care of the hard part, without any hesitation. Genji was oddly proud of his older brother then. 

Genji could handle the last bits of touchy-feely stuff. He finished cleaning you up and helped you hold the glass of water to your lips. You were still shaky, so weak. Slowly but surely all his questions were answered. It happened a couple of hours before you finally zombie walked your way to help. You sat there on the floor of your gory room, staring at the man’s dead body trying to process what had happened. 

“He’d been hitting on me for years,” you explained. “I knew that one day he’d try something… I just. I just didn’t know he’d try that hard. I stabbed him once, and then I just… kept stabbing him,” you looked into his eyes searching for judgment and found none. “I was so angry, I couldn’t stop.”

Genji assured you, “I can’t say I would have done any different.” 

He held you and switched out the water for his open beer bottle. An executive decision on his part, a little alcohol would do you some good. The silent halls gradually came to life with soft footsteps and murmurs. Sojiro only peaked his head in to ask if a doctor needed to be called and ducked back out when you assured him you didn’t need one. But not before giving Genji a strong look and a simple order, “Take care of your sister.”


	91. Hanzo x Sister!Reader (Somno, Stink Kink)

He’s hunched over like an animal, his face buried in well-worn cloth. Cock in his fist, it squelches from saliva, pre, and the fast motions in which he pumps it. He inhales deep, greedy, and long, holding in your scent for as long as he possibly can before exhaling it back out into the world. He inhales again, and again, two quick fresh sniffs. He buries his nose deeper into the crotch of your underwear. Bareback muscles twitch and ripple from the pure pleasure the scent of you gives him.  

His mouth drops open and he inhales your musk, tasting it and loving it. He’s addicted to your smell, could hardly get off without it. His cock swells and he tears your underwear from his face, cums into the underwear with your face in his mind’s eye taking every last drop onto your forehead, your cheeks. Milky white seed dribbling down over your lips and rolls over your chin. 

The underwear’s now in grave need of the washing machine it was intended to be in at that very moment. Hanzo balls it up and hides it away inside his fisted hand. He’ll sneak them into the already running washer just as he always does and tomorrow night he’ll steal a freshly worn pair and do the same thing all over again. 

Except when tomorrow comes he doesn't do that. 

He hovers over your bedtime tea mindlessly stirring and stirring and stirring. He palms the small unmarked pill bottle in his pants pocket and ponders. An urge rises in his stomach and tightens his chest. It’s too strong, it bends his will. With swift hands he sets the silver spoon down next to the teacup and uncaps the bottle. Hanzo tosses a single small white round pill into the steaming liquid. He stirs once more until it dissolves. 

He knows it has no taste, he can see it has no color but he still adds just a dash more milk and a pinch more sugar for good measure. He takes your cup in his left hand, his in his right and carries them to your room where you are waiting for him at your small table on the floor. 

“Took you long enough,” you say as he carefully places your cup in your hands.

He huffs. “You’re welcome,” he says curtly and takes his seat. 

You sip from your cup to test the temperature and then take gulps of it when its deemed safe enough to do so. He tries not to watch, tries not to act strangely. His heart races, sweat beads at the back of his neck and rolls down the valley of his back. You chatter about your day, upcoming events, Genji’s birthday is around the corner, you’re not sure what to get him. 

“Some common sense and discipline would be a thoughtful gift.” Hanzo takes a sip from his own tea, waits for the eye roll and doesn’t have to wait long. 

You  _yawn_  and he looks at you with peculiar interest but you don’t notice it. “I think I’ll just get him a gift card.” You down the last of your tea and clumsily put the cup down on the table. “Thanks for the creative suggestion though.” 

“Hmpf.” The tone of your voice says he can shove his suggestion. 

Over the span of twenty minutes your eyes have gone from alert and clear to droopy and red. “I am,” you swoon and catch yourself on the table, “I am dead tired all the sudden.” 

Your chin drops to your chest, eyes closed, asleep for a just a moment before your head snaps back up again. It’s only a brief far, far away look of confusion before your head lolls again, eyes closed and this time you topple over to the side with a dull thud. 

Hanzo calls out your name a couple times, sits next to you and shakes you by your shoulders. You only groan weakly and breath heavily. He rolls you over onto your back. The way your limbs ragdoll at your side and your head rolls listlessly gives him a sick satisfaction. 

All of his patience and composure disappears within the blink of an eye. What reason does he have to keep it now? Hanzo haphazardly removes your clothes, tosses them to the side leaving you only in your underwear. He kisses your lips in the way he’s always dreamt of doing. Rough and wet and chased with bites. He only stops when he tastes blood and goes after what’s been fueling his perverted fantasies for the past few months.

Hanzo throws your legs away from each other and they fall limply open. Lewd is the sight of you. His blood is pumping fast, his cock throbs. He cups his bulge and dives in between your legs. Sniffs your addicting scent straight from the source. Clothed, inhibited, subtle; your scent still makes his mind swim in lust. He’s impatient, feels as if he’s waited and held back long enough. He’s thinking about doing this again before your underwear has even been pealed from your hips and discarded along with the rest of your clothes.   

With your pussy bare he drags his tongue along your slit, prods your entrance, and sucks your folds into his mouth. This taste has been a long time coming and he’s not letting up until he’s had his fill. Though it feels like he’ll never have enough. Your cunt is messy and glistening with spit by the time he pulls away to release his cock from within its confines. 

He roughly pulls you forward by your thighs, drags his fingers across your soft skin. Red lines flower as he briefly wonders if your a virgin and decides that he doesn’t care. He aligns his cock with your entrance and slides inside. Just the tip at first. You’re so smooth and hot and tight. You’re every bit as good as he imagined, even better.  

He could have done this so much sooner. He’s had that bottle of pills weighing down his pocket for as long as he’s been stealing your underwear and touching himself to the thought and smell of his little sister beneath him. Nothing makes him feel more undignified and desperate than you do. He’d never stoop to such levels for anything or anyone else. 

He grows tired of being gentle and sheaths himself inside you with one fast thrust and follows it up with another one that proceeds another and another. There’s no slowing now. He keeps going at a fervent pace. Grunts and growls like some uncouth beast. Getting hotter and hotter as he watches your body ripple and jerk around with the momentum. 

You stir quietly, his breath catches in his throat. But it’s nothing to fret over, just a slight furrow of your brow and a complaining wine. You’re still lost in sleep, chest rising and falling steadily. He thrusts into you harder than before, hard enough to bruise your hips. He hits punishingly deep every time and pays no mind to the strangled moans that waft from your parted lips.   

He falls forward on top of you as the pressure builds to new heights. Teases his tongue along the swell of your jaw, and rakes his fingers through your hair. He yanks your head back, he loses his rhythm. Hanzo pauses only to keep himself from spilling inside of you. Slows down only because he’s right on the edge. His cock throbs, it hurts from the need for release. But he wants to see it laid on your face, wants it in your mouth.  

One moment he’s inside of you and the next his cock is in his hand and he’s stroking it like he would any other night. Only this time it feels far more intense than it ever has before and he won’t have to imagine what your face looks like painted with his cum. 

Suddenly Hanzo growls out far too loudly and ropes of rich, healthy cum spurts out onto your hair, over the entirety of your face, and slips between your slightly gaped lips. He sighs as he watches it seep into your hair, drip over the apples of your cheeks and onto the floor. He has quite the mess to clean up. 


	92. Gpa!Reinhardt x G!daughter!reader

“Look at you,” Reinhardt croons.  

He pushes his considerate length all the way in to the hilt. You gasp out as he slides past your limits and then some. Hitting that sweet, raw spot inside you that only he can reach, and makes your eyes roll back to whites. He caresses the bulge of his cock through your lower tummy. 

“Beautiful, Baby,” he praises. “So good for Opa.”  

Beautiful for him means your distended stomach, the mess of cum squelching everytime he moves inside of you, and the disgusting pool of seed underneath you. Been making good on his promise to come home from his mission, and have you pregnant by the time he leaves for his next. 

He holds you closer. One big arm under your body, laid across your ribs, in a curl. Both on your sides, spooning. Your head lolls back between his pecs as he pulls out; slowly and not too much. He pushes back inside even slower, forcing out a waterfall of cum, that rolls in thick globs down your thigh. He glides his big hand back and forth across your lower stomach. Dipping down every now and then between your thighs, teasing your swollen clit with rough but brief circles.

He takes your hands, puts them on top of your tummy bulge. “Touch it, Baby.” Holds onto your hip, inches out of your gaping hole and thrusts back in again and again, at an easy tempo. 

You gently squeeze the head of his cock each time it nudges your palms before it pulls back once again. Whining when your thighs twitch and you feel that hot pang of deep pleasure swelling inside you. You reach down to rub your clit and help along the feeling. Snatch your fingers away at first touch, finding that your far too sensitive, and throbbing far too much to touch on your own will.  

The tingling feeling won’t need any help as Reinhardt’s throwing his head back, growling like a beast. “Oh, my sweet baby, you’ll be so big and round,” he says fervently, pumps in and out of your clenching cunt just a touch faster now. “And your breasts!” he exclaims as he hoists himself forward, and hunches over your torso, just so he can grope a tit and shove your hard nipple into his mouth while he cums– _again._     

You cum too, feeling his meaty cock swelling, pumping out rope after rope of rich cum deep, deep inside of you. Filling you over the brim once again with far more than the average man could. It all sends you over the edge, and you take his current position as an opportunity to claw into his messy silver hair. Grasp tighter and tighter, the further into your orgasm you get. Releasing his hair only when he releases your nipple. 

He lays back with a big overdramatic, satisfied sigh. Lays there, keeping his filthy cock warm inside you, playing. Tugging on your nipples and groping your breasts, musings about the amount of milk your produce. Rubs your stomach, and keeps your clit on edge. All this keeping you panting and warmed up for him; until he’s erect and ready to breed you once again.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr ](https://1800areyouslapping.tumblr.com/)


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